Sirens
by Mistress Scribbles
Summary: PART 10 of Random Scribbles' New Adventures. The White Palace sails on the sea. It is a haven for True Love, and The Truth. But old flames and mermaids turn love into a dangerous pursuit, and The Truth is deadlier still. Rated for adult language & content
1. Chapter 1

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 1

-x-

In the end, Eric cried for over eight hours, and then slept for another fifteen. He was barely aware of the Bandits leaving the camp shortly after noon, despite the great roar of Grey's machine, nor did he notice his friends taking shifts with him until long after each swap had taken place. Sheila stayed with him long into the morning, crying intermittently herself, but after a while Eric felt that the arms around him were different, and that the slim, pale hands stroking his hair gently were male. For a short time a soft, equine snout nuzzled at him before he was enveloped entirely in a strong, tight Bobby Hug. He never looked up for all that time, and so he never saw Diana sitting in the doorway of the cave, always watching him, always wondering whether she should take her turn to hold him or not. As the suns began to dip once more he did a thing he didn't believe he'd ever do, as if sobbing for hours on end in front of his peers wasn't enough. He cried himself to the edge of his exhaustion, and fell asleep in the young Barbarian's arms. He never knew that Bobby then picked his comatose form up with Diana's help, and carried him to a mattress within the shelter of the hideout cave. He slept peacefully then, free from nightmares and screaming fits. Not free from dreams, however. He dreamt of the past. He dreamt of Her.

-x-

_'There we go. Isn't that much better?'_

_He opened his eyes blearily into the harsh white light of the hospital suite._

_'Hmm?'_

_His eyes found two dark, slim forms standing by his bed. One of them appeared to have silver hair and outsize sunglasses. He tried to sit up, but was hit by dual walls of dizziness and hot pain._

_'Easy there.' _

_The larger of the shapes moved, and leaned into him. His eyes continued to focus._

_'Diana...'_

_Diana smiled at him._

_'Don't try to move, honey. Not yet.'_

_He looked at the drip in his arm, and followed the tube up to the second figure. The drip stand. It was covered in crap and, frankly, starting to look utterly ridiculous._

_'I brought some hair for Marvin,' grinned Diana._

_He squinted at her again. 'Marvin...?'_

_'Your drip.' Diana sat back and started to rummage in her knapsack. 'We decided on the name yesterday when Bobby brought the glasses. Don't you remember?'_

_He frowned in confusion. His memory wasn't too good. His brain had become all fuzzy. It didn't help that his true memories of the last couple of years were so fantastical that he could barely distinguish them from dreams. And the white modernity of the hospital, his bed, the nurses, the flickering, colourful box in the corner of his room, was all so alien to him now. What with the Morphine, keeping him a permanent drowsy, floaty state, he might has well have been in a dream. _

_Dream. Bed. Warm. Soft. Clean. Diana. Mmm, perfect..._

_'Marvin?' he asked, at last, 'as in The Martian?'_

_Diana tutted. 'As in Gaye.'_

_He snorted a little laugh. 'Heh heh. "Gay".'_

_'Which brings me,' she added, finding what she had been searching for in her bag, 'to my second present.'_

_'...presents...?' he smacked his lips, still bewildered, 'hey, it's not our birthday, is it? Cos I haven't got you anything...'_

_She gave him a wide, lovely smile. 'Eric, what month are you in? That's not til September.' She brandished a personal stereo at him by way of explanation. 'The stereo's just a loan, Rich Boy. It's the mix tape that's the gift. I figured you'd be pretty sick of hospital radio by now.'_

_He delighted inside, but pulled a face anyway. 'It's not Your People's Music, is it?'_

_'It's Stevie Wonder.' She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Don't worry, Eric. If you could catch Blackness by listening to a little Soul Music, you'd be in a very Low Risk Group, along with Mr Wendley, my Dad's boss and all the other uptight toffee nosed White Folk stuffing up this beautiful, multicoloured world.'_

_He smiled at her, and shrugged with his good shoulder._

_'OK. I guess if I feel myself getting any kind of natural rhythm I can counter it with some Wagner or somethin'.'_

_'I'm so glad.' _

_She leaned over him, pressing play as she did so and putting the headphones over his ears. _

_That was the moment. That moment when every one of his senses were full of her. He saw nothing before him but her soft brown skin, skin that brushed him lightly, hotly, skin that smelled distinctly of vanilla - a perfume that was naturally hers, that she'd always hinted of despite weeks on end without so much as soap in the Realm. At the same moment, his ears were suddenly injected with sweet song - her music, music of her heart and her spirit, a song he'd heard her hum several times before. His world was filled with her and it was at that moment that his fuzzy brain was able to put together the words that had been playing disjointedly about his mind for so long, like a simple jigsaw that for some reason he had been unable to complete. But the words were there now, three monosyllabic words glued together into a tiny little sentence. A fact. A cold, hard, indisputable, unalterable fact._

_I Love You._

_And despite the fact that he knew she was heartbroken, and that she could never completely be his, he found such a great comfort in just knowing those words, and wanted that moment to last forever, that one moment of clarity in the sea of confusion that he sailed on for the many Morphine filled months._

_He listened to that first song on the tape over and over and over again. He learned it off by heart, and sometimes, when they were alone, quietly sang it to her, until it had become, if they were to have one, Their Song._

_It filled his head now, in his dreams, and covered him with that soft, warm, vanilla scented moment once again._

-x-

He was finally awoken by a terrible itching at sunsup the next day. He blinked about himself, scratching his shoulder.

'What the...'

'Don't scratch it.'

Besides Hank's still sleeping form at the other side of the cave, Eric had believed himself to be the only other person about. Now, all of a sudden, a slim, bespectacled youth was sitting beside him with a friendly smile and a steaming cup of sweet, black coffee.

He accepted the cup but pulled an expression of long suffering at his friend.

'Popping up out of nowhere, Presto?' He took a sip. 'You're learning the old man's tricks pretty fast, aren'tcha?'

Presto shook his head with a small laugh.

'I've been here five minutes waiting for you to wake up. You just didn't notice.'

He pulled a toothpaste-slathered toothbrush from his hat and began to clean his teeth.

'And I don't think I have to tell you,' he added through the foam, 'the DM thing is strictly between you, me, The Big V and Uni.'

Eric tutted. 'You told The Maniac Pony before you told me?'

Presto spat. 'Who's she gonna tell?'

'Hmm.' Eric sighed, scratching his shoulder again. 'I think the bed bugs bit. Damn Bandito Hideout Mattresses...'

Presto shook his head. 'It's the scar. It's starting to heal.'

'Really?' Eric looked disappointed.

'How did you sleep?' asked Presto.

'Fine.'

Presto nodded. He already knew, of course. He'd occasionally even seen glimpses of his friend's peaceful dreams. The art of asking questions to steer an individual towards a certain way of thinking was still quite new to him. Making Eric feel good about letting Venger heal him was going to be the first big test for his Powers of Persuasion.

'I dreamt about home,' added Eric, 'in the past. Between our little visits to this Fun Filled World O'Wonders.'

Presto smiled stoically, waiting for Eric to wax lyrical.

But Eric just sat back, watching him.

'What happens now, Presto?'

Presto blinked. 'Oh. Um, we'll gather the others, then we're gonna head East to the great river and...'

'No.' Eric gave Presto a small, sad smile. 'What happens to you?'

Presto sighed.

'I know what it feels like,' continued Eric. 'The powers bind you to this world, like the roots of a tree. And your assignment isn't just for a day, is it?'

Presto still didn't answer.

'It's for life.'

Presto looked at his feet.

'Don't think I haven't noticed you've stopped needing to shave. And your hair hasn't grown either. You've stopped aging, haven't you?'

Presto tutted in irritation. 'How can somebody so superficially shallow be so perceptive underneath?'

Eric grinned. 'It's a gift. Besides, like I said, I've been through this too. Sure, it was a watered down version, but I still know what it tastes like.'

There was a pause. Eric fought back the urge to scratch the scar again.

'I know you have to stay,' he said eventually.

Presto nodded, solemnly. 'If I survive to be given the option, yes.'

'Think Furnus'll come after you?' asked Eric.

Presto didn't reply.

'Do you really trust Venger?' added Eric, his voice dropping to a low growl.

Presto blinked at his feet again. 'I have to. I need all the help I can get. There's still so much I can't do, so much I don't know. It's not like you get any kind of training for this thing...'

Eric thought for a moment, then set his coffee cup down and put an arm around his friend. 'Just don't go wandering off into the sunsets yet, old buddy, OK? I've had it up to here with losing people for the time being.'

Presto smiled, leaning into the uncommon hug. 'Whatever you say.'

The green swathed figure at the other side of the cave sat upright, noting the pair before they had chance to come out of the hug.

'Forget it, Presto, he's on the rebound.' Hank flashed a quick, cold grin at them as he got to his feet. 'It'll never last.'

Eric retrieved his arm, meeting Hank's smile with a bright sarcasm.

'Hank! I didn't recognise you there without a Bandit attached to you.'

Hank turned his face from the Cavalier's, hiding his expression. 'Finished crying yet, Eric?'

'Yes. Thankyou.' Eric got to his feet, watching Hank's back. 'Has Sheila?'

'Eric...' hissed Presto.

Hank stopped, but still didn't turn to the other young man.

'That's none of your business, Eric.'

'She's my friend, Ha...'

Hank span around to face Eric, furiously.

'Did I meddle with you and Diana? Hmm? Even though any idiot could see it was a recipe for disaster, did I tell you not to get involved with her?'

'Don't bring Diana into th...'

'Right!' spat Hank, 'because friendship or no friendship, you don't start interfering in another couple's affairs, OK? It's just not...' he floundered for the right word '...polite.' He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 'Look. Sorry, OK? Just don't... it's too early in the morning for all this.'

Eric and Presto exchanged glances.

'You OK, Hank?' asked the Wizard.

'Sure.' Hank opened his eyes again. 'No. Not really.'

It wasn't anything that Presto had seen - more felt. A flash in the Ranger's eyes of something younger and purer, less weary but more frightened than the youth he knew now. The old Hank. For the briefest moment the old Hank was there before he was swallowed up again by the cold cynic that had replaced him.

'Haven't been sleeping too good since we found the bodies,' admitted the blond youth. 'I guess on top of everything...' Hank leaned against a wall of the cave, miserably. 'No hot showers, no clean clothes, precious little to eat, no privacy, no sex - for me, anyway - and yes, Eric, I did like Nym...' he frowned, forcing himself to change the subject. 'No smokes...'

Presto rolled his eyes grudgingly, reaching into his hat.

'Oh for God's sake. Here.' He tossed Hank a pack of magically produced cigarettes. The archer caught them in mid air with a quickness of hand that he had not displayed in many years.

'You sure?' asked Hank, making fast work of the packet.

'It's been a stressful few days,' replied the Wizard. 'Just make 'em last and be sure you put them out properly.'

'Thanks.' A cigarette flew into Hank's mouth with amazing speed. He proffered the pack towards the Cavalier. 'Eric..?'

Eric shook his head, turning towards the cave's doorway. 'I'm quitting.'

'Aw, you're always quitting,' replied the Ranger with a mouthful of filter.

'Yeah, well, I mean it this time,' answered Eric. 'You think I wanna rely on Presto for charitable nicotine handouts for the next Who Knows How Long?'

Eric turned in the doorway as Hank let the packet hang by his side, twisting his mouth strangely around the still unlit cigarette.

'You enjoy 'em yourself.'

Hank still didn't light the cigarette as he watched the two friends walk out into the sunshine together, leaving him in the dank cave, alone. Just him and his filthy secrets and his filthy habits.

'No.'

Despite being alone in the cave, he said the word clearly, letting the thin, stinking paper tube fall from his lips. He watched it bounce and roll down his tunic and leggings, and once it was on the floor, slowly, purposefully reached out a boot and ground the thing underfoot. All nineteen of its packmates joined it, tumbling to the cave's dusty floor only to be squashed into an unsmokable mess.

And then, he walked out into the morning sunlight.

There were few provisions left - enough for a meagre, stale breakfast. Eric was the only one amongst the seven to appear even vaguely cheerful, and even he grew quiet once Diana joined the group, late, to nibble on an end of bread, and fill her canteen with water. Nobody asked her where she had been all night. They didn't have to - her necklace had been fixed the day before, and a few feathers yet had to shrink back into her arms. They left to journey Eastward soon after, falling, as usual into a line of ones and twos. Presto led the way, as he often did, never hesitating or doubling back or stopping to find his bearings as the young Ranger had often been forced to do when he had taken the lead all those years ago. Half the time the Wizard didn't even look where he was going, but let his feet guide him. Throughout this particular journey he was embroiled in a long, indepth conversation with the Cavalier walking by his side. The two friends spoke in hushed voices for several hours, satisfied that the others were all too caught up in their own affairs to try to listen in on their secretive mumblings.

Diana would still have preferred solitude. The need to be alone that had propelled her to spend the night aimlessly wheeling around the dark, starless sky, her head filled with simpler, birdlike thoughts, still called out to her, but Sheila had taken her arm as they'd left the hideout, and had not yet released it. Neither of them had breathed a word all morning. It was a relief to Diana that all the tired, pale redhead seemed to want from her was some female company, and not to talk. Any Girlie Chats between the two friends would always come to the subject of Guys sooner or later, which would then inevitably lead on to two specific Guys, and Diana really didn't want to talk about either of them any more. She held her friend's arm, and pitied her distress at that one display of interest which the now single Ranger had shown that alluring, confident little Bandit Girl. Hank had only needed to gently flirt with Nym for a couple of days, and it had devastated Sheila. Diana wondered what would happen to her friend were she to know the real consequence of Hank's taste for forbidden women. If she were to discover the true depths of the betrayals of her sweet, innocent trust. Not a stranger, but her closest friend. Not laughing and flirting, but raw fucking, passionate and aggressive, and then to go back to her, and smile at her and kiss and hug her and all laugh together as though nothing had happened...

Diana said nothing, but looked ahead and held Sheila's arm.

Hank walked at the rear as usual, alone again now without the little Bandit, his funny little sparrow, all mouth and no morals, twittering away in her silly English accent, getting up everybody's noses. It was too quiet without her. He reached behind himself, making sure that Big Sally was securely strapped to his back for the Umpteenth time. It was a strange parting gift from a romantic entanglement - a huge, pump action crossbow that he had already stolen from her - but theirs had hardly been a conventional romance. Big Sally was probably the most practical, helpful gift he could have asked for. It would always remind him of her.

Bobby found himself traipsing with his unicorn between Hank and the girls. He also found himself opening his mouth occasionally to speak to Pistol and then remembering that the half Ogre wasn't there any more. He wondered why, while everybody seemed so keen to remember Nym for reasons both good and bad, nobody yet had mentioned her gentle giant of a brother. But Bobby missed him. He and Pistol had become strangely drawn together during the time the Ex Bounty Hunters had spent with the gang. He supposed at first that Pistol had found some comfort in walking next to somebody that, for once, he didn't dwarf, but soon they had discovered, to their considerable surprise, that their similarities went far beyond size. Pistol had revealed himself to be, incredibly, only a year older than Bobby. They both loved animals despite being forbidden pets of their own when growing up. They had both been easily frustrated into violence as children, but had been forced to control their anger as their physical strength had grown, for fear of seriously hurting somebody. They were both still, however, almost fanatically protective of their little big sisters. True, Bobby was no poet, but he enjoyed listening to Pistol's many ballads and laments, which he'd mumble to the Barbarian shyly, memorised by heart. And it had become clear to Bobby early on that the half Ogre had a special interest in the same sex, although the spark of attraction was obviously not there for him. Pistol had admitted timidly that his taste was for slighter, darker men than the well built, fair Barbarian. Bobby had enjoyed pretending to be upset that the young Ogre found him unattractive, and had found it more amusing still when Pistol had repeatedly asked him whether he was really sure both Eric and Presto were absolutely straight, as though if he quizzed him often enough it would somehow change the answer.

The night they'd spent in the desert, the same night that Nym had seen the firelight that would lead them to that terrible mortuary, he and Pistol had taken the first watch together, looking up at the stars and talking about their very different experiences of love. Pistol was still a virgin, he'd disclosed, although he'd spent most of his adolescence with the most heart wrenching of crushes on an older boy in the orphanage, a slim, mahogany haired youth, sickly but cheerful. One day the boy, who Pistol could never bring himself to name, had ventured out into the swamps for a dare. He hadn't come back until after dusk, trembling, drenched and with a small, Z shaped cut on his cheek. Pistol never saw him again. He had died of typhoid three days later, caught from swallowing swamp water. Bobby, after apologising that his story would come as quite an anticlimax after Pistol's, told him about Terri.

Terri... Bobby's thoughts moved from Pistol, delved further into the past. So many stolen moments... they had been so young. Too young, according to their parents, to the law, to pretty much everybody except each other. He remembered that first time. He had expected it to be more awkward, more problematic than it ended up actually being. It didn't help that he had learned so much about sex from magazines stolen from his sister's room. Both his father and Hank had attempted to have The Talk with him, but both had got a little embarrassed when it came down to the finer details, considering that the boy knew they were regularly doing those things with his mother and sister respectively. Bobby had worried about blood and tears from his girlfriend as they gave their virginities to one another, but there had been neither. He worked out later, as he came to know more about the actions that they performed purely by instinct, that he had already broken her during a rushed, wordless fumble a few weeks previously. Those had been wonderful, exhilarating times, virginal innocence and sensual awakening in the same breath, their breath. Her hair on his pillow, the golden locket still shining on her white chest, the smell of her on his sheets long after he'd walked her home. The whispered conversation.

_'You OK?'_

_'Of course I am.'_

_'You... are you glad we did that?'_

_'Aren't you?'_

_'It felt right. Didn't it? Do you think we should've waited?'_

_'Bob. I was ready. You were ready. And we were careful. That's all that we should care about.'_

_'There's something else.'_

_'What?'_

_'I love you.'_

_She had laughed, and held him close, kissing the side of his neck._

_'I should think so too, O'Brian!'_

-x-

'Bobby, run!'

'What?'

His sister grabbed his arm and forced him to turn. They were at the bank of the river. And there were Orcs. Hundreds of them, on Boarback, spears, swords and knives raised, galloping towards them.

'Orcs?' He forced himself out of his daydreams 'What happened?'

'Ambush,' explained Sheila, briefly as she dragged him along the riverbank.

'Another one?' he gasped, 'aww...'

And suddenly, everyone was about him. He recalled vaguely that the Wizard couldn't run as fast as the rest of them, and so scooped the unwilling youth up in his arms as he ran. Eric, heavily armoured as he was, was doing fine - Diana was dragging him along by both hands. They began to slow. The Ranger was trying to run backwards, firing behind them with his giant crossbow as he did. He only hit a couple of pursuing Orcs, however, and there were so many more. The unicorn was way ahead of them, but, Dammit, Hank was running too slow.

What to do, what to do... the Orcs were closing in fast and they were slowing down, close against the river's edge. He was just wondering whether to set Presto down and turn with his club to fight when the miracle occurred.

There it was. A great, white, shining column of marble, sailing down the river, taking up the vast majority of the water's width. It had windows, and spires. It shouldn't have been able to float at all, but then precious few laws of physics tended to apply in the Realm. And just because castles shouldn't be able to sail down rivers it didn't necessarily mean that they'd never see one do so.

Still they ran. Still the Orcs' boars ran faster.

Spears and arrows whistled past their ears. Bobby thanked his lucky stars that Orcs were so poorly trained.

A white door in the bottom of the floating castle opened. Out of it flew a torrent of silver arrows, whizzing over the river to down several of the Orcs. Bobby turned slightly as the castle drew level with them. The archers in the doorway - all female, it appeared - reloaded their bows and fired again, aiming back at the still pursuing Orcs. Without so much as checking to see how many they had hit, the archers then turned, as one, and fled back into the interior of the castle.

'Come back!' it was Sheila, still clutching him, still running, who had cried out. 'Help us!'

More arrows began to fly from the castle's lower windows.

'Sheila.'

Sheila and Bobby frowned at the doorway as they ran. There was a figure, standing alone in the open doorway, a great glowing angel, all in white, beckoning them in.

'How do you know my name...?'

The glowing woman's voice had been oddly recognisable, although Bobby couldn't place it. It sounded sweet and seductive, like chocolate. Bobby didn't have time to ponder this for long, however, because it was at the moment that the voice had spoken that both Hank and Eric stopped.

Diana's scream alerted them. They turned to see her desperately trying to pull the unmoving Cavalier onwards, but the young man wouldn't budge. Both he and Hank stood transfixed, gazing in wonder at the figure in the doorway, suddenly oblivious to the approaching Orcs.

'What are you doing?' chorused both girls and Bobby in simultaneous horror.

'Come,' said the woman.

Still Hank and Eric remained at a standstill. Cursing, Bobby turned and began to run back to them, the Wizard still in his arms.

'Presto. Presto, they're under some sort of spell. Do something.'

'It can't be,' murmured the young Wizard, softly, 'it can't be...'

Presto was not looking at his transfixed friends, or at the Orcs, or even at the floating castle. He was gazing intently at the woman in white, a strange light in his eyes. Bobby could feel that Presto's arms had grown limp and lifeless. He imagined that if he were to try to set the Wizard on his feet, he would merely slump like a rag doll to the ground.

'What is it, Presto?' Both Sheila and Uni began trying to tug Hank onwards, to no avail. 'What Can't Be?'

'It can't...' muttered Presto, still hypnotised by the figure in the doorway, '...but it is.'

'Come in,' said the woman.

A small Orcish knife flew past, missing Presto's head by centimetres. The Wizard, oblivious to it, split his face into a wide, childlike grin. He pushed himself free of Bobby's grasp, hitting the ground at a jog. At his example, the two older boys suddenly broke themselves free from their spots and followed him towards the gangway being pushed out by two more women from the door.

'Guys?' Bobby, Uni and the girls began to give chase. 'Guys? Do we know this is safe...?'

'Welcome,' beamed the shining woman. 'My good friends, welcome!'

The young men began to climb onto the gangway with seeming little regard for their own safety.

'What are they doing?' Diana clambered onto the precarious walkway over the water and turned to help Sheila up. 'I haven't seen them act like this since... Oh.' A spark of realisation lit up her eyes. She turned, with Sheila, to look at the woman.

The woman was still barely recognisable, even closer up. Her long, chestnut hair was now tied back, and they were unused to seeing her in shimmering finery. She had also put on an awful lot of weight, and the bloating of her face hid the shape of her cheekbones and dwarfed her once dazzling hazel eyes. Apart from that the fat did seem, irritatingly, to suit her. It rounded her hips and breasts, and plumped her pouting, cherry lips. It served to make her even curvier, even softer than before. The three young men reached her, and bundled into her together. It was easier for them all to find a bit of her to hug now. There was just more of her to love.

The gangway, still bearing the girls, Bobby and Uni, was pulled away from the riverbank just in time to stop two fast riding Orcs climbing onto it. Sheila's face darkened into a scowl as they helped Uni cross to the open door.

'I thought she said she was getting cured.'

The woman in white gasped happily as the three youths pressed themselves to her.

'Hello, Boys.'

'Mmm...' came a three man strong sigh from within the folds of sweet smelling flesh and fabric. 'Janapurrrnaaahhh...'


	2. Chapter 2

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 2

-x-

'Come.'

The plump Ex Enchantress held the large, white door to the Inner Sanctum open for Sheila and Diana, beaming at them as they passed. The boys had been taken, protesting, by other handmaidens to a series of living quarters in the outer courtyard of the large, floating castle. The immense, gleaming spire in the centre of the castle was, apparently, utterly out of bounds to any male. Although Uni was as welcome as the girls into the Inner Sanctum, the smell of sweet hay on the breeze had urged her to seek out the stables.

Sheila and Diana stepped through into the white marbled hallway.

Diana looked up, at the carved ceiling and shining, silver lined windows, and marveled.

Sheila looked down at the pristine floor, and worried that she should have wiped her boots.

'So this was all built by women?' asked Diana eventually, her voice echoing grandly across the walls.

'Designed, built, adored and all,' replied Janapurna. 'No man has ever seen the Inner Sanctum. No man ever will. It is our secret art. It is our mysterious soul. Mankind shall never know it...'

'I thought Zandora said no men were allowed inside the castle at all,' interrupted Diana.

Janapurna creased her forehead into a frown at the Witch's name. 'The High Priestess can make exceptions for visitors to the outer chambers, under special circumstances. You saved me. All of you. I couldn't allow those brutes to get you, and I knew you wouldn't be split up.'

Sheila gasped. 'So... are you the High Priestess?'

Janapurna continued to frown. 'I am now. I was left in charge when we took to the water.' She held a soft hand up in anticipation of both girls' barrage of questions. 'I'll explain it with the others, later.'

'Like those boys are gonna be able to concentrate with you around,' huffed Diana.

'Yeah,' added Sheila, 'I thought you were getting fixed.'

Janapurna smiled warmly. 'The spell on me took some time to lift, but it is gone. Your friends were just experiencing a little echo.'

'Echo...?' Echoed Sheila.

'It happens to those who've been previously enchanted,' shrugged Janapurna, 'it's just a memory of the feeling of desire. You'll notice that your brother remains unaffected. It should wear off on the others quite soon.'

Sheila nodded, unsure.

'I imagine,' smiled Janapurna, 'that the two of you would have a special interest in seeing your friends back to normal.'

Diana turned. 'Huh?'

Janapurna laughed a little, nervously. 'The Ranger and the Cavalier? It's been seven years, surely you'd have discovered them by now...'

'Been there, done that,' sighed Diana in reply.

'Got the Ex Boyfriend,' added Sheila.

'Oh!' Janapurna blinked at the girls. 'Oh... how sad. Still the Castle might have something to say about that...'

'What about the Castle?' asked Sheila incredulously.

'It has a bit of a mind of its own.' Janapurna gently stroked a hand down one of the hall's carved marble walls with a fond smile. 'Especially when it comes to star crossed soulmates.'

'They're not our soulmates,' frowned Diana, 'they're a couple of pains in the ass.'

'Diana...' tutted Sheila.

Janapurna slipped herself between the two other girls, putting her arms gently around them to disperse the oncoming argument, guiding them towards the far door.

'Ladies, please,' she soothed. 'No harsh voices. We females are all sisters here in the White Palace, and the Menfolk we take as guests are our friends. The Castle will hear of nothing but love. The harder your pride rails, the more it will make your love humble you. Believe me.'

Sheila watched Janapurna's beatific smile. 'It found you a soulmate, didn't it?'

'Against all odds,' beamed the High Priestess.

'Well, since this place is Women Only, I'd say you had pretty big odds to beat,' added Diana with a grin.

Janapurna stopped at the far door, still smiling, and released the girls, pushing open the door.

'Welcome to my chamber.'

Sheila and Diana stared. The refracted reflections of light against moving water shifted constantly over their faces. The pool took up almost the entire chamber, only leaving room for a small bed, chair and bookshelf. Windchimes were hung from the high ceiling, catching on the breeze from open windows above. Aside from their tinklings, the only sound was an idle splishing at the other end of the pool. A sleek jet black figure lolled in the water, its back to them.

'What is it..?' muttered Diana.

'I should introduce you properly,' replied the Priestess, before letting out a high pitched whistle.

The figure at the far end of the pool turned to look at them, then excitedly threw itself headlong into the water, using its supple body to propel itself speedily towards them. The girls stepped back a little, alarmed by the swiftness of the creature in its seemingly unwavering approach, but a instant before it hit the side of the pool, the black figure stopped, rearing up into the air with a great splash and a joyful shriek.

'Oh my God,' breathed Sheila in amazement.

It was a woman. Mostly a woman, on the top half anyway, and naked as you please save for a thick layer of shiny black fur all over her body. Her face and nipples were the only bald areas of her - three smooth, wet circles of skin far darker than Diana's. She had human shaped arms and hands, but her legs were fused together into a large, fat, furry tail. The girls watched as the woman-thing shrieked and clapped in delight again, and performed a happy backflip, thrashing her great tail. Curious, they stepped forward again a little as Janapurna took the creature's hand and petted her behind one of her small, flat ears.

'A Mermaid?' breathed Diana.

Janapurna shook her head. 'There's no such thing as Mermaids.'

'But...' began Sheila, pointing at the evidence to the contrary.

'There are several different species of water-folk, if that's what you mean,' replied Janapurna, 'not counting the so-called Swamp Mermaids, which are just cleverly evolved snakes. In the great ocean there are tribes of Sea Nymphs, which are the dangerous ones that sailors tell tall tales about. And then there's the Unpronouncables, like this little lady. But no Mermaids.'

'Unpronouncables..?' attempted Diana. The black creature yelped merrily at her, cutting her off and splashing a little. Diana couldn't help but raise a smile.

'They have their own language,' replied Janapurna on the creature's behalf, stroking its shiny black head, 'quite impossible to use with human tongues. They don't have a civilisation as such, but they're mammals, and as intelligent as you or I.'

'Like dolphins!' interjected Sheila.

Janapurna creased her forehead slightly. 'I'm sorry. I don't understand.'

'Earth creatures,' explained Diana, transfixed by the Unpronounceable, 'they're like fish, but they're not.'

'Hmm.' Janapurna visibly exchanged a glance with the strange, aquatic creature. 'Well, Unpronouncables are like people, but not. Like people they're capable of jealousy, lust, greed and terrible cruelty to one another.' She blinked, still petting the creature. 'Aurore... that's my name for her... was an Unpronounceable Princess, and a celebrated beauty. Glossy coat, strong teeth, fat tail, the lot. Her parents were going to force her into marrying some rich old Aristocrat from the other side of the ocean.' Janapurna beamed up at the two girls, and Aurore, following her gaze, grinned toothily at them too. 'We saved her. Brought her back to the Palace.' She tickled Aurore behind the ear again. 'You didn't want to marry that horrid old male now, did you, Aurore?'

Cautiously, Sheila knelt beside Janapurna to stroke Aurore's silky black fur. The Unpronounceable stayed still for the Redhead to pet her, and shot another fond look up at the Priestess.

'This place is full of females like Aurore and I,' added Janapurna, sitting back. 'It is a haven. A refuge for women who no longer want to be pursued by love.' She cast her eye over both girls, Sheila crouched by the Unpronounceable, Diana standing aloof, her back against the wall. 'It helps you to turn around. You mustn't run from love, but towards it.'

Diana opened her mouth to speak again, but fell into silence when, inexplicably, the bookshelf on the other side of the chamber began to slide across the wall. She watched as it revealed a large, door shaped opening in the wall, leading through to a dimly lit corridor. Two women in white tunics stepped from it, carrying spears. On seeing Sheila and Diana, they gasped, both gazing at Janapurna apologetically.

'Forgive us, Reverence,' muttered one of the spear carriers, 'we did not know that the visitors would be here.'

Janapurna held up a plump hand in acceptance.

'Have no fear. These are the two women of The Seven.'

The women in white visibly relaxed a little at this news as the bookshelf slid shut behind them.

'They are only in my chamber because I trust them,' added Janapurna, more to the adventurers than the spear carriers. 'So we shall trust them to know that door exists, and yet never speak of it again.'

'Why?' asked Diana. 'What's behind the door?'

'It leads to our vaults,' replied Janapurna, patiently, 'and that is all you need to know.'

'What do you keep in the vaults?' Sheila asked, excitedly.

Janapurna got to her feet, reaching into a pocket. 'I think it might be time for dinner.'

'C'mon, Janapurna,' added Diana, 'tell us. It's not like we're thieves... um...'

The Priestess retrieved a chocolate from her pocket and tossed it to the Unpronounceable in the pool.

'Well,' continued Diana, taking Sheila's arm, 'this one is...'

'Hey...' muttered Sheila, reproachfully.

'But she's really not that good at it...'

'Hey!'

Janapurna watched Aurore perform a merry backflip, catching the treat in mid air, then smiled at the two friends.

'It is not distrust, believe me. I know you would not steal from us, otherwise I would never have taken you aboard. It is merely a protective measure that the doors to the vaults, and the subject of what lies behind them, are closed to you.'

Outside, a bell began to chime. Janapurna smiled brightly at the sound.

'Besides,' she added, 'it really is time for dinner.'

-x-

By the time Janapurna and the two girls reached the dining hall, the grand table was already bustling with women of all races, sizes and ages. Not only human women, but fairies, female gnomes and dwarfs, as well as several species that Sheila and Diana had never come across before. There was even a corner in which a couple of female ogres chatted shyly with one another. The four boys were easy to spot amongst the sea of women. They were sat together at one end of the table, their food laden plates already half empty. They waved the girls over, cheerfully, and, to Diana's relief, failed to fall over one another in desire when Janapurna settled herself between Hank and Presto.

'How was the tour?' mumbled Bobby through a mouthful of potato.

'Interesting.' Diana took a step towards the empty chair next to Eric, then changed her mind and sat down beside the Barbarian.

Sheila took the seat next to the Cavalier instead, muttering irritably to herself.

'...could steal anything I wanted to... could be the thievingest darned Thief they ever knew... you name it, I'll steal it, 'cause you know why...?'

Eric set down his cutlery, giving Diana a quick, accusatory glace.

'Who started her off?'

Diana just rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.

'That's quite an appetite you've got there.' Hank was watching in amazement as Janapurna piled her plate high with hot, stodgy food.

The Ex Enchantress nodded at her plate, grabbing a spoon.

'I always have. It's just there was precious little to actually eat in the Plane of the Dead.'

She spooned a large glob of melted cheese onto a hunk of bread.

'Besides,' she added, tucking in, 'I was really unhappy back then.'

'But you're happy now?' Hank picked at some of his food. 'Cause I hate to break this to you, but the rest of the Realm seems to be fresh out of happiness at the moment.'

Janapurna sighed, placing the bread back onto her plate.

'I think she's aware of that,' whispered Presto.

'Yes, I am aware,' said Janapurna, sadly. 'We are all aware. The White Palace has not always taken refuge on the water, you know.'

Janapurna looked at the faces of the adventurers on either side of her.

'You think we are cowards,' she added. 'Weak women too afraid to fight. It is not the case. Every army needs its defenders as well as its aggressors.'

'Running and hiding never helped anybody,' muttered Eric.

'That all depends,' replied Janapurna, 'on what one has to protect.'

'So what are you protecting?' asked Diana.

Janapurna picked up her bread again. 'Things that you take for granted will stay safe. I hope that you will never have to discover they have gone missing. As for happiness, we in the Palace are all encouraged to pursue our own inner peace, in spite of what the world outside has to throw at us.'

She bit into her hot, fatty bread, closing her eyes and sensing the series of furtive glances that were being shot across the table. The Palace had been right to pick them up. It had a lot of work to do.

'What the...'

She reopened her eyes to see the Cavalier staring from his own empty plate to Sheila's full one.

'Did you take my ham?'

Sheila grinned at him, her mouth full.

'She took my ham. Why'dya take my ham?'

'Because I could.'

'You little... Stop laughing, Diana.'

Diana didn't stop laughing, even though Eric scowled at her almost as threateningly as Hank was frowning at his own plate. Bobby and Presto both noticed the Ranger's expression and began to pick listlessly at their food.

Yes. It had a lot to do indeed.

-x-

Presto found a stable spot on the ramparts on which to perch. He sat, facing out towards the widening river as the Palace slowly drifted seawards, and closed his eyes, and tried again. Yet again, his mind was filled with colour and sound - mixed up memories, fantasies and fears of hundreds of different people. His friends, ranging from the easily read Eric to the near inscrutable Hank, all instantly distinguishable nonetheless. Venger, always there, in the distance, like a background hum of grief and regret. Tiamat, further away still, her impotent rage flickering on and off like a lighthouse on the horizon. Pistol and Nym, growing faint with the other bandits, but still thrumming with life and love. Zinn's malice and fear flitted about him like a firefly - there was something else with her. Something bigger. Furnus was still invisible to him. There were others, too - the women of the White Palace filled most of his mind's eye. They cluttered it with their needless fretting. There were too many voices. There always were. And no matter how hard he searched through them, he still couldn't find the two he was looking for. Rhamoud was not there. Presto didn't know whether the great King was dead, or simply hidden, but he was definitely Not There. He sighed, screwing up his eyes in concentration, but it was no good. Varla was gone, too. She had closed herself off to him, disappearing off his register the moment he had left her, and she didn't seem to be coming back. Deep in his concentration, the other minds swirled around him, chattering and worrying over one another. The women of the White Palace were particularly loud, all whirling round like a tornado. He frowned. They were too frightened. From what Janapurna had said, they should be among the safest and happiest in all the Realm, but they span in panic. He exhaled, pushing himself deep into the frothing whirlpool of their thoughts. There had to be something at its centre. Focusing, he made it out - a sphere, tiny yet infinite, insignificant yet all powerful, holding everything, disclosing nothing.

The Truth.

'Beautiful, isn't it?'

Janapurna's voice wrenched him so suddenly from his meditations that he yelped in surprise.

The Priestess stepped away from him slightly.

'I'm sorry. Have I disturbed you?'

Presto blinked back into the material world. 'A little.' He frowned up at Janapurna. 'You were saying...?'

Janapurna pointed apologetically out to the expanse of water ahead.

'The river. And the mouth of the ocean. I'm sorry, I thought that was what you were entranced by.'

Presto gave her a little lopsided smile, turning back to the view.

'Well, it can't _always_ be you, Janapurna.'

She laughed, warmly, and joined him. 'Yes. It turns out that I'm not the fairest in the land after all. The sea is far more beautiful than I can ever hope to be.'

They sat, watching the water for a moment. Then Janapurna spoke again, quietly.

'I hoped when we parted ways that you would all find love. To hear that you had all lost it again so soon saddens me.' She took his hand, gently. 'But you... there was always somebody in your heart. Even the first time that we met, you were the only one amongst those boys who truly knew what it felt like to be in love. And then you found another. Poor Presto. The confusion and misery of being in love with two women, but being able to have neither must be...'

'How did you get The Truth?' Presto interrupted, harshly.

Janapurna withdrew her hand, blinking in surprise.

'I... I merely feel what is in people's hearts...'

Presto fixed her with a steely glare, the lenses of his glasses glinting emotionlessly in the light of the sinking suns.

'You have The Truth on board. The greatest of the Pearls of Wisdom. I've seen it, Janapurna. I've seen it through your eyes.'

Janapurna bit her lip, meeting his gaze.

'You really have become powerful, haven't you?'

'Bet you didn't see _that_ one in my heart.' He raised his eyebrows at her. 'Where are you keeping The Truth?'

'In the Vaults,' whispered Janapurna.

'The Vaults?' Presto folded his arms. 'Janapurna, The Truth is one of the most dangerous, volatile weapons in the Realm, and you're hoarding it like it was treasure?'

'I know what it is, Presto!' Her voice was supposed to be a hiss, but it still spilled from her lips smoothly and sweetly, like syrup. 'Why do you think we fled to the sanctuary of the sea? Zandora sent us out here in the hope that the water might form a barrier against Furnus' reach. We know that she must never find The Truth.' She got to her feet, defensively. 'If we keep it in the Vaults we can keep it guarded as well as hidden amongst the other trinkets. To anybody who doesn't know what they're looking for it would pass as nothing more than a large jewel.'

'But it isn't just a pretty Thing, is it?'

'Its power is tremendous.' A troubled thought hit the High Priestess, and she looked across at Presto sharply. 'When you saw it... it didn't... show you anything?'

Presto stood, shaking his head. 'I didn't look into it.' He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. 'And you?'

'I don't think anybody would dare to,' replied Janapurna, 'if they knew what The Truth was capable of. It cannot lie, but... it is very selective about the facts it discloses.' She shuddered. 'It is a wicked weapon.'

'That troupe of Orcs wasn't waiting to ambush us, was it?' Presto watched Janapurna, waiting for a response that didn't come. 'It was meant to attack you.'

Janapurna sighed. 'We have spent four years at sea this coming summer. We need to sail upriver every few months to collect fresh water and land food. They must have worked out the pattern.'

Presto turned to watch the slowly approaching ocean mouth. 'But we'll be safe once we're out on the sea, will we?'

'I don't know.' Janapurna frowned slightly at the horizon. 'The Sea Nymphs have grown in number and hostility over the past few months. They are cunning things, and greedy. If Furnus were ever to consider recruiting an army of the sea, she would do well to contact the Nymphs.' She hugged herself, as though cold, even though the evening breeze was gentle and balmy. 'Perhaps they are already working for her.'

'Perhaps.'

There was a long, leaden pause.

'Presto?' she asked, eventually.

'Yes.'

'Zandora said she would find us as soon as she could. But that was years ago.'

Presto closed his eyes unhappily and mentally ran through the list of those he had helped bury since coming back to the Realm. The wizened old woman was not amongst them. Somehow, that was worse.

'Nobody has heard about her since,' continued the Ex Enchantress. 'I don't suppose you might know where...'

'No.'

'But...' the old look of beautiful melancholy danced in her hazel eyes again. 'But you are powerful now, and...'

'I don't know, Janapurna,' he sighed. 'I'm sorry. There's still so much that I don't know.'

And how right he was. He did not know that, in the dining hall beneath him, a woman had been standing at the window, watching the sky slowly blush and fade, transfixed for so long that she hadn't stirred while the rest hall was emptied. He did not know that a man had marched halfway across the courtyard in a blind rage, then stopped suddenly, stood muttering to himself irritably for a moment, then turned on his tail to storm back on his tracks. He did not know that, at that same moment, a different woman and man had found themselves at separate ends of a dormitory, staring at each other.

He felt the vibrations in the castle walls, as though the entire building were sighing. But he didn't know why.

He felt the slight movement in the water beneath the Palace, but the cause of the disturbance, the distant thrashing swarm of slender, slippery bodies swimming the long swim through the ocean's depths to intercept them, was invisible to his mind's eye.

-x-

Hank and Sheila both stood stock still, staring at each other across the dormitory.

Sheila gnawed at the lower lip a little. She didn't know how she'd managed to do it - she thought she had been walking away from that No Good, Rotten... but here she was - different door, same room. Looking at him. All her life she'd been looking at him.

It was he who spoke first.

'Sheila, we need to talk...'

He was right. Of course he was. But... he had said "Yes"! After all that time, he had just said "Yes" to that damnned Bandit girl! Sheila took a step back. 'I'm through talking, Hank.'

Hank took a step towards her, a strange, cold look rising in his eyes.

'It's not a request, Sheila, I am telling you. We have to talk, because this is killing me.'

Sheila shook her head, taking another backwards step, and placing her fingers on the door handle. He began to pace towards her.

'This isn't right, babe. You know it's not. We're not supposed to be apart. It's made me... go all wrong. I'm falling to pieces here, Red...'

She turned from him, opening the door, her eyes welling with hot tears.

'I still love you, Sheila.'

She faltered. She could hear that he had stopped in his tracks too, and even through her own shallow breaths she could tell that he had begun, silently, to cry. She felt herself harden to it. Without turning back to him, she answered with a rare harshness.

'Do you, now.'

She strode from the room, and didn't allow herself to sob until the heavy door had safely slammed behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 3

-x-

Diana watched the sky change colours with the setting suns, fiddling with her beads, humming absent mindedly. She didn't know how long she had been there. She didn't even know what she was thinking about any more. She was lost in her daydreams, and it felt for what seemed like an age that nothing could draw her from them...

'Nice buns.'

Startled, she leapt out of her reverie, whipping herself around to face the owner of the sardonic voice, then sighed in a combination of relief and irritation when she saw who it was that had spoken.

Eric leaned against a chair at the side of the table precariously, biting into the iced bun that he had picked up from the still laden platters.

'Do you think,' he asked her through a mouth of sugary crumbs, 'that Janapurna always keeps plenty of cakes served on the table until the next meal?' He indicated towards a giant, half eaten, six foot high wedding cake at the end of the table. 'I mean, how long d'ya reckon that's been there? Since their last mid-forced-wedding rescue, I'll bet. Trust Janni to liberate the dessert course as well as the bride, huh?'

Diana poked at a strudel. 'It's her Palace. She can do what she likes.'

'Well Lah-Dee-Dah!' Eric threw his hands in the air in a sarcastic expression of joy. 'It speaks! Well I never, Hush my mouth...'

'...wish somebody would...' muttered Diana, reproachfully.

'And there was me,' continued Eric with a fake merriment, 'thinking that you were planning on simply ignoring me for the rest of our lives. When you're not laughing at me, of course.'

'...shut up, Er...'

'Oh, I'm sorry, what's that?' He cupped an ear, blinking coquettishly. 'Was that a "Shut up, Eric"? Well, I do apologize, I had no idea that we'd just gone back in time eight fucking years!'

Diana just stared at him. 'You're being very childish, Eric.'

'What did you expect? I told you I loved you and you pushed me away. And now you won't even breathe a word to me any more.'

'We both need our space...'

'You've got oodles of space!' Eric's voice was slipping out of sarcasm, and was fast becoming loud and tense with frustrated rage. 'You've got more space than anyone I've ever seen! A whole Realm to run and skip and jump across and a whole sky to sail on. Alone. All alone because nobody else can keep up with you, and you fucking well know that. So don't you dare tell me that you need space!'

'But you...'

'And don't tell me what I want and what I need, because I've had space and I've had solitude up to my eyeballs and I've always hated it. I want the opposite to that, and I guess we've worked out now that you can't give that to me. But I tried, Diana. God help me, I tried so hard, you can't say that I didn't...' he paused, catching his breath. 'I need my friends. So even if I've lost Sexy Diana, I've gotta keep hold of Buddy Diana at the least, because I'm fighting a really tough battle here. I'm trying to get well again, but I need my friends to do that and... and I'm losing too many, too fast. Either dead or drifting away...'

'We're still friends, Eric.'

'This isn't friendship! This is...' Eric faltered slightly in his tirade, searching for the right word. 'This is Edwardo.'

Diana cocked an eyebrow. '"Edwardo"? That Spanish boyfriend you made up?'

Eric pointed accusatorily at Diana, his hand still full of pastry. 'Whenever you'd got sick of some guy, and he still kept calling, you'd hand the phone over to me and Edwardo would get rid of him.'

Diana smiled slightly at the memory. 'Yeah. That was fun, wasn't it?'

'Ccchello?' Eric held an imaginary handset up to his ear, speaking in a terrible deep, fake Spanish accent. 'No. She no cchere. She shoppeeng. I geev her plateenum card, I say "go, my love, buy seelken underpanties, nothing eez too good for you". Her last lover, cche neglected herrr. Who can I say eez calling? No say. Cche hang up.'

Diana giggled a little as he put the invisible handset back on the invisible receiver. Eric met eyes with her, sternly.

'We used to laugh at those poor saps, didn't we? But every time I took the piss out of one of them, I just thought "you poor bastard. You thought she was fond of you, didn't ya? How wrong you were." I was on your side, though. I always was. Because, selfish, vain creature that I am, I thought you and me were different from that. But I was wrong too, wasn't I?'

'This doesn't have anything to do with any of the other guys, Eric.'

Eric banged a fist on the table. 'Of course it does! Because I am just another one of those guys, aren't I? I didn't last any longer, I didn't get any more affection or commitment. Or respect, Diana, and that's what's really eating me up. After all the years of friendship, I find out that once Diana Jones has got sick of having sex with you, she just shuts you out like all those other notches on her bedpost, no matter who you are!'

Diana's fists bunched voluntarily. She had been accused of that by another member of the gang before, and the memory of it enraged her, suddenly.

'You'd better back the Hell off,' she growled. 'You'd better not go down the path I can see you going down...'

'What's that? The path where we try to work out exactly how many dicks have been in you before mine?'

A torrent of red rage fell over Diana's eyes. She picked up the nearest object to hand and flung it across the table at him. He dodged, and the flan missed, exploding wetly on the wall behind him.

'Oh, yeah,' he continued in a snarl, 'you'd love to see that, wouldn't you? Comedy Eric says the wrong thing again and ends up humiliated and covered in custard. You'd just love to pretend that there's nothing about me that deserves the tiniest little bit of fucking respect!'

With that, he threw the half eaten bun at her, catching the side of her arm with icing.

Diana gasped, infuriated.

'You dare to lecture me about respect, when you're so obsessed with how many boyfriends I've had?'

She threw another cake, the stickiest, jammiest that she could find. This one hit him square on the chin. He scraped off the mess, furiously.

'The one night wonders were "boyfriends"?' He darted sideways, trying to make a dash around to her side of the table, but she ran the other way. 'That doesn't make me any different from the rest of them now, does it?' He stopped in the spot where she had been standing, glaring at her in his old spot opposite. 'So come on, how did I score? Do you have a little chart?' He picked up a large sponge and hurled it at her, hitting her torso. She responded with a shower of chocolates. 'Come on, Diana,' he continued to rant from beneath the onslaught of confectionary, 'gimme notes. A rating out of ten. Tell me how I'm gonna fare against all the others. It's OK, I'm no stranger to abject humiliation...'

Eric had to duck to avoid a flying knife. 'Hey! No cutlery!'

'Just because I've had sex with more than one person, Eric,' spat Diana cruelly. 'Just because I'm not some emotionally retarded 21 year old Uber Virgin!' She was hit in the left eye by a carefully catapulted spoonful of clotted cream.

'You're calling me emotionally retarded?' he yelled. 'That's pretty rich, coming from you...'

'Doesn't make it any less true!' She picked up a plate and began to pile it high with cakes and cream, intermittently hurling things at Eric and fending off the missiles being thrown in her direction. 'You're not normal, Eric Montgomery. Never have been, never will. Ask anybody!'

Cottoning on to the fact that Diana was trying to fashion a giant Food Weapon, Eric grabbed a plate for himself and began to copy her activities.

'Well, at least I'm not a cold hearted whore like you.'

I'd rather be a cold hearted whore than a socially backward, whiny, idiotic, fundamentally unlikable lonely loser like you!'

'Plenty of people like me!'

'About three people like you, Eric, in this world and the other!'

'Well, people only like you because you're so eager to suck every cock that comes your way...'

That remark was replied with a well aimed jug of sweet wine in the face.

'Bitch!' Screamed Eric, clambering over the table towards her.

Diana didn't run this time, but got up onto the table herself, loaded platter in hand, and started to crawl towards him.

'Bastard!'

'Slut!'

'Asshole!'

He lashed out his free hand and caught her roughly by the hair at the back of her head, trying to force her face towards the heaped plate in his other hand. With lightning response, she grasped his hair in a similar hold, and attempted to do the same. They both winced and screamed through the pain as they tried to drag the other into the sticky, sugary mess.

'CUUUUNNNNNTTTT!'

Diana gasped, shock and indignity causing her, briefly, to lose her focus.

'Don't you dare call me a... Ow!'

He succeeded in pulling her face down into the plate, then dropped her, the plate still stuck to her head, onto the table.

'Baftd fnnuh vuh bissh...'

She retrieved her face from the mess, furiously wiping cream and crumbs from her eyes just in time to see him getting to his feet, standing victoriously over her on the table.

'Well I guess now you know what it feels like to be a laughing sto...OOOCCCK...'

She lunged, catching his legs. He toppled, falling lengthways into the laden table. Enraged, she scrabbled over his body until she was on top of him. He twisted himself round so that he was facing her. That's when she saw it. That curl of the corner of his lip. He was laughing! She grabbed his chin roughly.

'Are you laughing at me?'

He grinned unashamedly at her cake covered bedragglement. 'You look silly.'

He managed to catch the open palm flying towards him, and held her wrist tightly, raising his eyebrows at her.

'I guess some people just can't stand the taste of their own medici...'

'Shut up,' she growled, and kissed him, aggressively, on the mouth.

She sensed his grin growing on her lips as he relaxed into the kiss, allowing her tongue in and releasing her hand to wrap his arms around her. That was her chance. She pulled out of the kiss as suddenly as she had pushed in to it, expertly grabbing a jug of custard and pouring it over his surprised face in one fluid movement. She sat back happily, still straddling his torso, drawing a pair of spectacles in the custard around his eyes.

'Who looks silly now?'

He lashed out his arms, grabbing her thighs and flipping her off him and onto her back before she had a moment to react. Jumping on top of her so heavily that he knocked the wind out of her lungs, he returned her kiss, just as hard, just as angry, just as forceful, one hand holding both of hers above her head, the other roaming down her body. She didn't see his hand briefly move away from her belly to the bowl beside them. She did, however, feel the handful of cold trifle as he pushed it down her shorts and left it there. She closed her lips to the kiss, and he sat up, his previous flushed frustration replaced with an expression of smug mischief, licking the remaining trifle from his fingers. She grimaced, pushing him away.

'Thanks a lot, Eric.'

He knelt up, allowing her to rise. 'You started it.'

'Yeah.' She met his eyes, seriously. The irritation was beginning to return to his face. 'But this is stupid.'

Eric pressed his lips tightly in aggravation. His eyes flashed with the effort of trying to think of a decent comeback, then he sighed, defeated, getting to his feet.

'We both know there's only one way either of us is gonna win this fight,' added Diana. She put her arms around his, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

'Death?' guessed Eric.

Diana smiled into his breastplate, and began to push him backwards. 'Cake or Death.'

Eric's eyes narrowed. She had his arms pinned to his sides and was pushing him backwards, hard and fast. He couldn't keep his balance and was forced to keep stepping back along the long table, towards...

'No...'

He knew what was at the end of the table...

'Diana, no!'

'Yes.'

'No!'

'Yes!'

'Think of the mess!'

'Look at the mess we already made!'

'It's probably stale...'

'So they won't mind you ruining it.'

'Diana. Consider that...'

He never got to finish. His heel came off the end of the table and formed a pivot. They both fell, screaming with laughter, into the remaining half of a very large, very old, very sticky Wedding Cake.

-x-

Darkness fell entirely, and the stars and moons began to shine in the sky and on the surface of the black river mouth. Miles away, swift, snakelike shapes continued to fly through the ocean water, towards the slow sailing castle.

In an outer hall of the palace, two creatures, more confectionary than human, lay back, panting happily, in the remains of an enormous cake. They scraped the icing and humorously positioned raspberries from their faces and surveyed the scene before them. It looked as though there had been an almighty explosion in a custard factory. That had blown all of their clothes off. One of them, a female, spoke.

'I don't think that cake was off after all, you know.'

'Too bad,' said the other. 'It's pretty inedible now.'

The first creature tutted. 'D'you think we should offer to get them a new one?'

'Or,' suggested the male, 'we could always throw the cake overboard, get rid of the evidence and pretend it wasn't us.'

The female grinned, teasingly. 'Bing Bong! Another corner cutting, self serving Easy Way Out Idea from the brain of Eric Montgomery!'

'"Sensible", Dee. The word you are looking for is "Sensible".'

The female frowned at the male for a moment, then looked at the devastation around her again and sighed.

'You're dethpicable. Let's do it.'

-x-

It was a clear night, and the light of the moons cast a pale glow over the courtyard. Sheila looked up from her little hiding spot, tucked away in a secluded corner near the stables, where nobody could see her cry. She sniffed and listened. Somebody was singing. It was very faint, from inside a room somewhere, but it was a lovely, well spoken woman's voice, and a sweet, simple song. A lullabye of sorts.

'O sleep my babe, my lamb, my dove,

And wrap thyself in my warm love...'

It wasn't an Earth song, she knew that for sure. But she had the vaguest memory of it, although she couldn't remember how. She stood, and tried to follow the singing voice.

'Sleep, child, while I watch over thee,

But trouble not with dreams of me.'

Sheila frowned slightly at the recollection. It was almost as if she had dreamed the song herself. It was even the same voice that sang to her now. It had to be a Realmic song, for a little one, although she couldn't remember ever knowing it during her childhood adventures.

'O sleep while all the suns are spent,

Sleep well, my little innocent,'

She pressed herself against a wall, listening. It was coming from in there! It was coming from the stables.

'But let thy happy dreams be free

From those as dark and damned as me.'

With one hand resting on the knife at her belt, she stepped silently through the stable door. The stable was completely dark. There was nothing to be seen but mounds of hay and the forms of slumbering horses.

'Hello?'

The singing voice stopped, suddenly. Sheila knew what the sound of a human trying to escape undetected sounded like, and there was no such sound in the stables now, just the rustling of the horses in their hay.

'Who's in there?'

There was no reply. Sheila swallowed, and took a few more steps forward.

'I know there's somebody in here,' she said, as calmly as she could, 'I'm not gonna hurt you. It's just... that song. Where did you learn that song?'

Still, there was no reply. In the gloom, Sheila could make out an odd shape at the back of the stable. It was nestled in hay, but it was of the wrong dimensions to be equine. It shifted a little. Sheila took another step forward. It was definitely human.

'I know you're there. It's OK. There's no need to hide.'

She noted the shining ivory coat of a dozing unicorn next to the mound of hay, and relaxed a little. If Uni was happy enough to sleep while this stranger was in the stables, she had to be safe.

'Hey...' Sheila leaned down to the nest of hay and reached out a hand. 'Hey.'

Her hand touched a well built, male arm. She jumped back, biting down a shriek as Bobby sat up, suddenly, from where he had been sleeping.

He blinked, blearily, into the moonlit stable.

'Sis?'

'What are you doing here?' they demanded in unison.

Sheila answered first, in a hoarse whisper. 'There was a woman in here. Singing. Didn't you hear it? Did you see her?'

Bobby wrinkled his nose. 'Have you got Cabin Fever or somethin'? There's nobody in here but us horses.'

'I heard her.'

'Well I didn't. And if there was a stranger in here, believe me, the animals would'a known about it.'

Sheila tutted, sitting down next to her brother.

'What were you doing in here, anyway?'

Bobby shrugged. 'Wanted to say Goodnight to Uni. I must'a fallen asleep.' He brushed his sister's fringe away from her face, watching her tear puffed eyes. 'You and Hank have another fight?'

Sheila turned away from Bobby slightly, folding her arms.

'We don't fight. We just... we just...'

Bobby got to his feet, grimly.

'Where is he?'

'What are you gonna do?'

'Talk to the poor bastard.' He met his sister's worried expression with a small, kind smile. 'He sat up with me all night when me and Terri broke up, you know. Who does he have to take his troubles to?'

'...me...?' attempted Sheila.

'And if you are the trouble?'

Sheila grinned. 'I'm not Trouble, am I?'

'You betcha.' Bobby ruffled his sister's hair slightly, and began to walk out of the stable.

'Whaddaya suppose,' he added over his shoulder, 'they keep all these horses for anyway? It's not like they can swim.'

Sheila toyed gently with Uni's mane. 'You know us girls,' she smiled, 'we always keep everything, just in case it turns out to be useful again.'

The Barbarian shook his head as he took a turn out of the stable door.

'Women.'

-x-

Bobby opened the door to the dormitory gingerly. None of the four beds were occupied. There was a dark green shape slumped at the foot of one of the beds, staring into space. Bobby cleared his throat, and the shape looked up slightly.

'Women, huh?'

Hank sighed.

'Wanna talk about it?'

'You don't want to hear about it, Bob.' his voice was barely audible.

'What, because it's my sister?' Bobby sat on the corner of a bed. 'Hey. I know how bad females can screw with a guy's head, family or no family...'

'You're sixteen years old...'

'Had more girlfriends than you have, Buster.'

Hank looked up at the wide, mischievous Bobby Grin, opened his mouth, then closed it, wordlessly again.

'Well,' goaded Bobby, 'if you don't wanna talk about Mush, what about Guy Stuff?'

Hank still didn't respond.

'Football? Baseball?' The young Barbarian continued to watch Hank for a glimmer of reaction. 'Hitting things? Eating raw meat?'

Hank snorted a small laugh.

'No raw meat,' he grunted. 'Men hunt Mammoth. Bring to cave. Women cook.'

'Ug,' replied Bobby cheerfully, 'we men.'

'Thanks, Bob.' Hank managed a weak smile. 'Thanks for making the effort.'

'Like I said before, Hank. What you're going through right now, I've been there. And I know it sucks.' Bobby met Hank's sad smile. 'So if you ever need anybody to talk to... and it doesn't matter that Sheila's my sister, because... because you're my family too, Hank.'

Hank's face fell again, and he looked away, miserably.

'And it's a good job for you, too,' the Barbarian continued unabated, 'because I don't think I'd let anybody else in the world get away with making my sister cry as much as you have.'

'I'm sorry about that, Bob.'

'Yeah, well, what're ya gonna do?' sighed Bobby. 'She's Sheila. She cries. It's kinda her Thing.'

They sat in silence for a moment. There was a faint splash in the distance. Hank looked up, curiously.

'D'you hear that?'

Bobby stretched out on the bed, resting his helmet next to him. 'Hear what?'

Hank frowned. His sense of hearing had seriously sharpened since he'd been back in the Realm. It was almost as good as it had been the first time round as the Ranger. But still. That wasn't right. His ears must be playing tricks on him.

'It sounded like a huge cake being thrown overboard.'

-x-

Janapurna had gone. Presto lay back, and tried to watch the stars, but there was something wrong with the sky that night. Some malice was out there, hiding. There always was some malice out there, hiding from him. Still so much unseen, so much unknown. And that vast expanse of dark, empty sky only served to make him feel all the smaller. He had found it comforting, once upon a time, to gaze up at the heavens, or out upon a great expanse of wilderness, and be reminded of how tiny he was in the grand scheme of things. But now he was no longer a bit player, no longer a minor cog in a big machine. He was supposed to be big. He was supposed to be powerful. He was supposed to know.

He wondered about the spirits of the dead. Perhaps those distant specks of silver in the sky harboured the souls of those he had laid to rest. Perhaps they were watching him now, despairing at his lack of progress. Perhaps Whitewood himself was up there, wishing he had chosen a different heir. Presto sighed, and turned onto his side, curling up foetally on himself. There was a gap in the ornately carved wall of the ramparts, and Presto could see the dark horizon of the sea beyond. The reflections of the stars on the water were faint, shifting and twisted, here one moment, then gone the next as the sea's surface stirred and the mirror smashed, swirled and reformed again.

Where were they going? What were they doing there? How could they fight their foes from the middle of the ocean? He had no idea. He had just blindly followed Janapurna. Again. He was supposed to be guiding them, but all he ever did was follow girls. Girls that he had no future with. That was the truth. That was The Truth.

He took off his glasses. His surroundings blurred pleasantly. He could be anywhere. He could be nowhere. The Truth was trying to tempt him again. But he didn't want it. He wasn't going to look inside. It was too dangerous.

But it would have knowledge. It would have all the knowledge that he needed.

But it wouldn't show it to him. It would only show him knowledge that would hurt him.

But he was the Dungeon Master. He could...

'Shut up'.

Sleepiness began to weigh heavily on him. He wondered whether he would ever outgrow mortal urges for sleep, and food, and... other things. He imagined that he probably would, some day. It made him strangely sad. But for now, he needed a rest.

He needed a holiday. They all did. Maybe they could stay for a week or two.

He supposed that the women of the White Palace would probably thank them for being around to help them protect The Truth. And there was no need to let the others know that it was even so much as on board. Why bother telling them it existed at all?

Him and his little secrets... if the others ever knew how many secrets he was keeping from them...

His thoughts trailed away as he sank into sleep, until he was left with only a faint mantra, one which had been repeating over and over in his head since he had spoken with Janapurna -

'Fire consumes wood. Wood floats on water. Water douses fire.

Water douses fire. Water douses fire. Water douses fire.'

Barely noticed by a soul aboard it, the palace slipped out into the sea.

The writhing bodies in the depths of the ocean increased their pace.

-x-

Newly clean, Diana wrapped the large bathrobe around herself and stood on the balcony to her room, watching the sea and the stars. She toyed with her necklace a little, then took it off and placed it gently over a small statue. She didn't intend to go flying tonight. The faint sound of the shower stopped, and she was briefly bathed in the light of the bathroom as the door behind her was opened. She blinked, slowly, faintly smiling, not turning her back from him as he approached. He didn't put his arms around her, but leaned on the balcony by her side, watching the dark water.

'I must go down to the sea again,

To the lonely sea and the sky.

I left my vest and socks there -

I wonder if they're dry.'

She turned her head to grin at him. He smiled back, his hair still wet and spiked, tiny pearls of water still bejewelling his torso. There was a towel around his waist, but he hadn't bothered with his shoulders. In the dim light she could see the outer feathers of his pretty wing over his shoulder and ribs. They seemed slightly fainter than before.

'Thanks for the use of the shower,' he added, 'although I don't think it's really fair that you girls get your own ensuite king sized bedrooms while the rest of us have to sleep in a dorm.'

'That's favouritism, I guess,' she teased.

There was a pause.

'I should go,' sighed Eric, eventually.

Diana remained poker faced, but gazed out to sea again. 'If that's what you want.'

'Deeds, what I want is...' Eric stalled, and started again. 'What happened tonight, was... was wonderful...'

'But...' prompted Diana.

Eric shrugged frustratedly. 'But I don't know what the Hell it was. I mean, I know what it was, it was sex inside a giant cake. But... what does it mean? Was it Getting Back Together Sex? Or One More For The Road? Or is this gonna end up happening every time we fight, and we just have to try to ignore it?'

Diana glanced at him. 'That wasn't the last time. We both know that. And I don't really think it's something we can ignore.'

'So what's going on?'

'I don't know.' She sighed, looking away into the black horizon once more. 'I've never been in this situation with somebody that I care about so much before.'

He leaned across, catching a loose strand of her hair and tucking it behind her ear.

'Can we start over?'

Diana found herself beaming. 'You think?'

'I'll do you a deal. No more "L" Word, no more "K" Word. Can you live with that?'

Diana nodded, still watching the water.

There was a long pause. His hand traced along her arm, found her hand, and held it.

'La Mer,' murmured Diana, 'L'amour.'

'Que?'

'The French words for "sea" and "love". "La Mer", "L'amour". Funny how they almost sound the same.'

'Not exactly Laugh Out Loud Funny, Deeds.'

'I know, I know. It's just...'

'La Mer,' interrupted Eric, singing, 'Je comprends pas...'

She met his sly smile as he began to lead her by the hand away from the balcony, into the bedroom.

'That's not the words...'

'La Mer, floopy loo-wah...'

'That's not even French!'

'Je suis un garcon et j'habite… En l'Amerique, Je m'appelle Ereek.'

He collapsed onto the bed, pulling her down with him.

'The bed?' Diana pulled a face. 'That's not like you.'

'I've never had sex in a bed before.' He opened her bathrobe. 'Tell me, what is this "Missionary Position" of which I hear tell...?'

They laughed, and their laughter was lost in kisses.

-x-

The night wore on, and, slowly, the Palace began to fall asleep. People left the courtyards for their chambers, lights were put out. The Vault Guards changed shifts, tiptoeing quietly through the Inner Sanctum so as not to wake the sleeping Priestesses.

There was no sound but the soft splashing of the tranquil midnight sea upon the ivory walls of the Castle. There was no sound as the hoarde of bodies closing in on the Palace changed their frantic writhing to a slow, silent slip through the last mile of water.

On the ramparts, a young man in Wizard's robes gasped harshly through a nightmare.

In the stables, a Unicorn huffed nervously in broken sleep.

In the High Priestess' chamber, an Unpronounceable started awake and, gently releasing the young woman's hand holding hers, swam fretfully to gaze out of the window, whining faintly.

There was no sound as slim, translucent hands took hold of the walls and began to climb, nor was there one as the many pairs of dainty feet stepped wetly onto a little used corner of the courtyard.

The whole of Presto's nightmare was submerged under water. The Realm and everything in it floated and swirled in front of his brain like so much flotsam and jetsam. The stars slid wetly into the black sea. Light mingled in with dark, pure was polluted with evil. Everything was in flux. Everything was liquid.

'Water douses fire. Water douses fire. Water douses fire.'

'But the water has its dangers too.' His own voice tumbled through the whirlpool. 'Everything has its wicked side.'

'But water douses fire.'

'Ships can set alight,' Presto managed, 'buildings can burn in rainstorms. Sometimes if the fire is powerful enough it can survive.'

'But water douses...'

He managed to find a face in the water. So there she was!

'What are you doing in my dreams, Varla?'

Varla looked up, from the bottom of a deep pit, the ocean above her streaming from her eyes.

'I've been crying,' she explained, flatly.

'I knew a girl who thought she could weep an ocean,' replied his voice. 'I sent her away. She was sick so I sent her away.'

The water rippled and shifted, stretching and changing the Illusionist's features. For a moment her hair lightened, and her eyes darkened, and she was that poor little English girl.

'I could cry,' said Alice, 'for a thousand years.'

The water moved again, causing her long hair to turn to a dark chestnut colour, and her face to become plump and honey coloured, then became thin and pale once more, her reddening hair growing short and tiny brown freckles dancing beneath Sheila's tear stained green eyes.

'Varla, stop it.'

She was Varla again.

'I'm going to, Presto. I can't do this any more. I'm tired, Presto. I'm so tired.'

'Varla...?'

The water grew more restless, and the image of Varla became a fractured mess.

'She wants to use you against each other, Presto. She's found people... people who can hurt you. I'm one of them.'

'Varla...'

'She wants to use me again.'

The fragments of Varla began to fade.

'If you say no...' Presto's own voice was growing dim. 'Your people...'

'There's only one way out, Presto.'

He awoke, suddenly. The night was bright, and silent. It was wrong. It was all wrong. He stood, putting his glasses on and gazing wildly about himself. The malice was still there, in the stars, but it had spread now. It was in the water around him. It was in the Palace itself, and the walls were thrumming with distress. And something else was coming in, too. Coming in from above, fast and powerful and greedy. He frowned, taking a step towards the stairs down to the courtyard, and the gates to the Inner Sanctum. Something on the battlements caught his eye, far off in the distance, and he stopped in his tracks.

'You're still here,' he breathed.

The distant figure disappeared. He turned on his heels, and began to run after it.

-x-

Diana was awake. She sighed, got out of bed, padded over to her bathroom, poured out a small glass of water and walked back, opening up the door to her balcony as she did. The cool night breeze caused Eric to mutter an indecipherable complaint through his sleep and pull the sheets up over himself a little higher. She wandered back and sat on her side of the bed, watching him. She had always liked him best when he was asleep. Years ago, she had claimed that that was the only time she could bear his company. As familiar as she was to his sleeping form, she felt that night as though she was looking at it for the first time. He was stretched out on his side, turned towards the middle of the bed, facing her. His mouth had fallen slightly open. She could see his teeth. His long, closed eyelashes formed two small ebony crescents against his white cheeks. One hand lay, palm up and open, on the pillow next to his face. She lay by his side, facing him, and placed her hand in his. Automatically, his hand closed gently around hers. She watched him sigh contentedly at her touch.

Odd.

There were those three words again. They'd been playing around her head all evening. Little moments, as she'd looked at him... but they weren't true... were they?

Of course she loved him. You spend month after month with someone in a tight knit group like that, surviving, eating, sleeping, fighting together, they become Family. More than Family. But how was that supposed to turn into Love? Love, like her and K.. and the "K" word.

But Sheila had done it, although Diana couldn't remember a time when Sheila hadn't been in love with Hank. For all the good it did her.

And then of course there was Eric himself. Eric, who was so certain that he was in love with her. She wondered how he, cynic of all cynics, could be so sure about love.

Still...

She gently brushed her fingertips across his fringe. He smacked his lips and smiled a little.

It was odd.

It wasn't as if she didn't love him. It wasn't as if she was ever going to see... Him... again. She had been so young when she'd met Him, and prone to sudden, intense feelings of desire. Perhaps she was looking back at a brief, adolescent infatuation with rose tinted glasses. Perhaps...

'Diana.'

She sat bolt upright in the bed, staring out of the door to the empty balcony, trying to follow the disembodied voice that had spoken her name.

'Hello?' she whispered. 'Who is it?'

'You know who I am.' The reply drifted through her, not heard so much as felt. It was right. She did know who it was. She got to her feet. It was coming from outside. She didn't dare say his name, although it pounded through her mind over and over again.

Kosar! Kosar! Kosar! Kosar!

'Yes, my love. It is me.'

'Where are you?' she breathed.

'Not far now,' came the reply. 'Diana, I've searched for so long...'

The old tears began to rise up in her eyes.

'You... you didn't abandon me...?'

'No, love. Not for a heartbeat.'

Silently, she staggered to the balcony.

'Did you get the necklace?' the voice continued.

She nodded, smiling softly through the tears.

'I knew it was from you.'

'Put it on,' he murmured. 'Put it on. It will help you to find me. Come back to me. Please, my Diana.'

She paused, her hand hovering over the beads. 'But my friends...'

'They all knew that you would come to me if you ever could,' the voice chided gently, 'they all knew that you would not let anything come in the way of our love a second time. They will get by without you suffering at their sides. You can help them in other ways.'

She picked up the beads, and turned back to the bedroom. Eric was still sleeping.

Yes. Sleeping - peaceful and comfortable and content, like a child. That was a good image to keep. That was how she would remember him.

'Bye, Sylvester,' she whispered. 'Bye, guys.'

She slipped the beads on over her head, and there it was. The way to find him, like an all encompassing homing beacon, like a skymap scorched into her brain. She didn't look back again. She didn't even realise she had turned into a swan until she had leaped from the balcony.


	4. Chapter 4

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 4

-x-

Nimble, damp feet sped on tip toe through the Castle.

Three pairs stopped suddenly outside the door to a half empty dormitory.

'Look,' hissed one voice, light and airy, 'Menfolk!'

'Oh, Merid, may we?' came a second, more sultry voice.

'Absolutely not.' The third voice was deeper, older, and more serious. 'The Truth is the only prize for tonight. We have our orders.'

The first voice whined, disappointedly.

'But Merid,' soothed the second voice, 'if there are Menfolk aboard the White Palace, they must be... important...'

'Special,' added the first.

'Unique,' continued the second. 'We know that the High Priestess has links to the Dungeon Master's strange pupils. If we could bring some to Furnus...'

'You have no intention of sharing live spoils with anyone, Ulse,' answered the third voice, 'no matter how powerful the ally nor how high the reward. More likely you would fail to tell a soul that you had them, then neglect to feed them or change their air, and they would die like all the others.'

'We would care for them, Merid,' complained the first voice, 'these ones are special. Young Gold Heads. See how pretty they are.'

'I said No, Sylka.'

There was a fast patter of hundreds of naked, wet little feet outside.

'Come, children,' continued Merid. 'It is done. We must help with the escape. And remember. If you run into a human...'

The other voices chimed in with her, a well remembered mantra.

'...Kill It.'

-x-

Presto sprinted over the high ramparts of the castle as fast as he could. His body was still weak and clumsy, his clothes still cumbersome, and the last thing he wanted was to stumble and fall off the sheer walls of the castle to the cold water or hard courtyard far below. Not that either fall would kill him, but it would waste valuable time that he definitely couldn't afford to lose. The figure was still so distant, just on the edge of his vision, always running, always climbing. He knew that he had more pressing matters coming in so terribly fast, but... but he had to chase her. He had to be near her again. That urge not to lose her again overwhelmed all of his senses. Besides, he still had some time... just a little more time before all Hell broke l...

The alarm bells began to ring.

-x-

'What the...?' Sheila jumped out of bed, her hands clasped over her ears, as a dozen guards ran past her window, hastily pulling on armour as they did.

'Hey!' she called to them. 'Hey...?'

One guard turned to her, briefly. 'Back to your bed, Miss Sheila. T'aint safe out tonight.'

'What's happening?'

'Back to bed!' The guard turned to the others. 'And barricade the doors!'

And then they were gone. Sheila could see nothing from her window, but could hear the panic rising all too well. Somewhere in the distance a horse shrieked in alarm, and a young man cried out. She stepped back a little, allowing her hand to fall gently onto the cape and knife that she had left on her bedside table.

'Hate to tell you, lady,' she muttered under her breath, 'but I'm afraid it's about to get a whole lot less safe out there.'

-x-

Eric awoke in confusion. Noise was everywhere - bells, screams, whinnies. The air was full of smoke. Automatically, he put a hand out to the empty mattress at his side.

'Dee?'

He sat up, coughing in the rapidly thickening smoke.

'Deeds!'

He climbed out of bed, stumbling towards the balcony door... the _open_ balcony door.

'Aw, shit. Where have you gone this time?'

The scene below him was a mess. There was a large fire growing in the courtyard, but hardly anybody seemed to be paying it any attention. He caught a flash of white below through the smoke screwing up his eyes he could make out Uni, trying to bolt. There was a green and yellow shape next to her that could only have been Hank, desperately keeping her from running. He could make out no swift, twirling gold armbands in the melee beneath him, however, and certainly no giant swan. His hand groped for the statue where Diana had left her beads, and found it bare.

He peered up into the sky with stinging eyes.

'Where have you gone?'

He stopped, as though listening intently, and turned back into the bedroom.

'What?' he asked nobody in particular, flatly.

There was no answer save for a dull thrum in the corner of the smoky room.

'What is it?' he asked the corner.

Thrum. Thrum.

'You know.'

He broke into a brief run across the room, throwing himself to his knees in front of his resting shield. He picked it up, furiously.

'I had a feeling you'd tell me.'

He turned the shield around, and tugged at a thin, knotted strand of fabric around one of the armstraps. It came undone, and he pulled it away from its hiding place in his weapon - a long red strip torn from the hem of his cloak, threaded through which was one, shining, thrumming bead.

He scowled at it.

'You chintzy little rhinestones just can't bear to be apart, can ya?'

He reached up, and began to tie it around his neck, still addressing the bead.

'Why don't you show me where all your little friends are, huh?'

He stood up, and the makeshift necklace's cold bead touched his skin.

It was like a ray of clear light, cutting through the dark smoke. He could see her. He could feel her. There she was.

'...no...'

So far across water and sky already, so very far away.

'No...'

With Him.

'NO!'

-x-

'Hey!' Cried Bobby again, 'I said, what's going on?'

Two women carrying buckets of water practically ran into him.

'You shouldn't be out of your room,' panted one of the women.

'All Hell's breaking loose!' yelled Bobby over the cacophony of bells and panicked female voices. 'The fucking stable's on fire, and hardly any of you are doing anything about it! You're all running the wrong way.'

'It's The Truth,' gasped the other woman.

'Rana...' hissed the first woman franticly, but the Barbarian cut her off.

'Damn right it's the truth! Thank God, the horses are OK, but we need to get that fire out, and fast, before we get a pretty nasty visitor...' He grabbed all four water buckets off the women. 'I'll take these to the stables. You two go and get some more.'

'No.' Janapurna appeared from behind Bobby, harassed and half dressed. She took the first girl's arm.

'Julie,' she said, 'you can swim, can't you?'

Julie nodded. 'Yes, Janapurna. And my combat is fair enough underwater.'

'Good,' replied Janapurna. 'Get an airtank and a spear from the arsenal and report to the lower gate. You're going with Aurore. Bring as many swimmers as you can.'

Julie nodded curtly, then turned and ran towards the Inner Sanctum. Rana, the other girl, caught Janapurna's shoulder.

'What about me, Janapurna?' she asked. 'I can shoot.'

Janapurna shook her head gently. 'Arrows won't help now, Rana. Most of them are already underwater. Help with the fire. We do need that to be put out as soon as possible.'

Bobby began to make a move towards the burning stable, but as he did, saw Janapurna pull Rana close to her and mutter secretively in the girl's ear.

'Keep watch over the Menfolk,' she murmured, 'these are Sea Nymphs we're dealing with here.'

-x-

In the flickering shadow, two lithe figures hid, and watched the humans playing around the fire with great amusement.

'They're all so afraid of it,' grinned Ulse.

Another of the large animals that had been sleeping in the stable began to scream and buck.

Sylka laughed. 'Why do they keep those strange beasts anyway? It takes at least three of them to hold each one and stop it going mad...'

She trailed off as the larger of the Menfolk strode up to the fire, carrying four large buckets of water, and threw them all on the fire one by one.

'Look, Ulse. The other Goldhead is here.'

'Yes.' Ulse watched them both - the shorthair in fur dousing the fire and the longhair in green holding the one horned beast still. 'They would make pretty pets, yes?'

'No,' hissed Sylka. 'Merid said...'

'Merid isn't here,' purred Ulse.

'And they will have the fire out soon,' added Sylka. 'We have to go.'

'Sylka, Sylka.' Ulse twined a finger through the smaller figure's long, wet hair. 'Little sister. It would be so easy. Just let them see what they want to see. Just until they get to the water.'

'I...' Sylka wavered, unsure. 'I don't think...'

Ulse leaned in close to her younger sister and whispered gently in her ear.

'I'll let you have the big one.'

-x-

Still Presto ran. Still Presto climbed. The smoke and loud confusion was becoming distant below. The women of the palace were panicked and disorientated. So were his friends. He could feel them all... almost all of them. Diana was fading away from him. He knew that the drive in Eric to go after her was dangerously intense. He knew that Bobby and Hank were being watched by unfriendly eyes. And Sheila was getting some worrying ideas. He should go back down, straighten everything out, talk his friends out of making stupid decisions.

He should.

But she was there. Just out of reach. If he chased her, if he caught up with her...

Why was he always chasing after girls? He was hardly a womaniser. Hardly a lothario. He was a skinny little Wiccan Virgin, turned Wizard turned Dungeon Master. Not the type to drop everything to run after some skirt.

He should forget about it and get on with his job.

He should.

The figure paused briefly, higher up. She was heading for the main spire of the Inner Sanctum.

Presto broke into another sprint. Always running. Always climbing.

-x-

Fire danced over the golden haired Menfolk as they grappled with horses and flames. Nobody noticed the two figures watching them. The shorthair ran off with empty buckets. That, Sylka decided, was her chance. She slipped away after him, cutting an almost invisible line in the smoke in his wake.

This one, she thought to herself with a smile, was going to be easy to beguile.

Swiftly, the figure following the Barbarian through the smoke became thicker, more solid. Her feet began to tread heavily on the cobbled walkway. She began to appear more human, like one of their females, around sixteen years of age. Her hair darkened to become an ebony black, and pulled itself back into a low ponytail. Her face became soft and rosy cheeked, with bright blue eyes. She took on strange, masculine attire - some shapeless shirt and tight denim breeches, highly unbecoming for a young maiden, but if it was what the Shorthair wanted...

He stopped, warily, and turned. She blended quickly into the smoke again.

No. Not yet. She wasn't ready quite yet. There was still something missing.

She concentrated. Something small. That was all. A little trinket.

Gold.

Bobby squinted into the gloom. He was definitely being followed.

The figure sprang through the smoke suddenly, pushing past him, sprinting away before he had chance to cry out.

'Terr?'

She was already gone. Had it been her? It had looked like her. She'd found her way into the Realm on her own before. What if she'd followed them in?

It had looked like her.

Bobby dropped the buckets and followed her into the thick smoke.

'Terri!'

-x-

'Bob! Presto! Anybody?'

Eric ran blindly through the smoke filled corridor, rounded a corner and hit somebody unseen.

'Augh!'

His stinging eyes peered for the shape of the one he had bumped into, but found nothing. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Sheila, what is the point of cloaking here? Nobody can see anything anyway.'

Sheila uncloaked, irritably.

'Playing it safe. Have you heard what's going on? The Palace has been boarded. There were ten women guarding the Vaults tonight. They've all been found dead. All of them - trained soldiers!'

'Jesus. Anyone else hurt?'

'It's hard to say. I've just been... y'know...' Sheila shrugged. 'Doing my thing...'

Eric arched an eyebrow at her fondly. 'Overhearing things that you weren't supposed to know?'

Sheila nodded, breathlessly. 'I came to get Diana. She's a good swimmer, isn't she?'

'Sheila...'

'Only it sounds like they're sending a squad out underwater. I'm gonna go, but we could do with some help...'

'Listen...'

Sheila reached out to the bead at Eric's throat, frowning. 'Where'd you get that, Eric?'

Eric touched the necklace himself.

'You know the other day, when I... when Diana's necklace broke?'

'Yeah. She was devastated.'

'Well...' Eric concentrated on a spot just above Sheila's right ear. '...One of the beads might have accidentally fallen into my pocket.'

'Eric!' Gasped Sheila, disapprovingly. 'You... you don't even _have_ any pockets.'

'Hey,' Eric scowled, 'I didn't trust them. And I had good cause. She's gone.'

'Gone?'

'Yeah. That's what I was trying to tell you.'

'Ko...' stuttered Sheila, 'Kosar?'

'I think so.' Eric touched the bead around his neck gently. 'That's what this thing is telling me, anyway. The necklace was from him. Some sorta Homing Device.'

'Can you track her?'

'I'm counting on it. Where's Presto? I could do with a Magical Can of Whoopass to open up on that Motherfucker, or... or something...'

Sheila shook her head. 'Eric, you're the first of the gang I've seen since the alarm started going off. I haven't seen Presto since supper. Besides, Janapurna really needs our help.'

'I'm not leaving Diana alone with that Prick, if that's what you're suggesting. Not even for one night.'

Sheila blinked a little at the fury in his expression, but didn't back down.

'It's not like she was abducted. If it's Kosar, she'll have gone of her own accord.'

'It's not like that...'

'It's exactly like that, Eric. None of us have ever got in the way of any one of the gang making their own decisions...'

'...or their own mistakes,' added Eric. He sighed, running his fingers desperately through his short crop. 'Dammit!'

Sheila stared at her friend, sadly. 'You got back together, didn't you?'

'Ooh, for about...' Eric checked an imaginary wristwatch, 'three hours. Is that a record?'

'It would be,' replied Sheila, 'if you were gonna let it go. But you're not, are you?'

Eric shook his head.

'Is she very far away?'

Eric nodded.

'Across the sea? How the Hell are you even gonna get to her?'

'I've got a plan.'

'You took time out to think up a plan?'

Eric pulled a face. 'OK, it's half a plan. But luckily it's the first half of the plan. I'm hoping the second half will come to me as I'm putting the first into motion.'

'Even if you get to her, it doesn't mean she's gonna go back. It's not like a rescue.'

'I know.'

They shared a brief, sad smile.

'You really love her, don't you?'

He nodded.

'You gonna be careful for me, out in the unknown?'

'Nope. Will you be careful for me, down in the ocean?'

'I'll try.'

Sheila grinned, and waited for him to turn from her before she called after him.

'You do realise you're naked, right?'

Eric stopped in his tracks, and looked down at himself. 'Aw, nuts.'

'Exactly.' She laughed as he buried his forehead in his hands. 'It's probably something you'd be wise to change before you head out on your Chivalrous Quest, FYI.'

Eric shook his head in embarrassment.

'Thanks for the Heads Up, Sheil...'

But the Thief was already cloaked and gone.

-x-

Ulse stood back, watching the Longhair through narrowed eyes. She almost regretted giving her baby sister the easy catch. At least, she would have regretted it if the Longhair wasn't so very intriguing. She toyed with a few shapes - tall and toned and chocolate skinned, short and wiry and sparrowlike, plump and soft and sad looking, but every time she changed back, swiftly. There was only one shape that she kept returning to... small and slim and very fair, hair like the fire that consumed the stables, and eyes as blue-green and melancholy as the ocean. She didn't even know that _that_ shape was going to work. There was too much familiarity with that form. He loved it, but he took it for granted. That shape, that girl, had always been there. It was too dependable. Ulse frowned. What made somebody throw away the few things that they could rely upon in life? It wasn't like one of her pets, that she forgot about when she grew weary of them. She didn't need her pets. But he needed this girl. And yet he spurned her. Ulse had met men of his kind before. They thought that they wanted to destroy themselves and turn away all those who loved them, and yet the concept of being broken and alone terrified them. They didn't know what they wanted, and that was what made them so difficult to catch. But Ulse was good at getting pets. She had found a way around the problem. If one couldn't play on what the man wanted, there was always the option of using what he _didn't_ want. And that was far simpler. She decided on her form, the little flame haired female. And then she began to alter it. She decorated the white skin with blue bruises and red gashes. She let streams of blood begin to flow from the image's lips and nostrils, then paused to think, then created another pool of dark red on the image's abdomen.

'Too easy,' she muttered to herself, then clutched at the reddened mark on her belly and staggered out of the smoke.

-x-

The bedroom was utterly filled with smoke by the time that Eric found his way back inside. But that wasn't why he needed to hurry. He knew that he could bring his armour, so he pulled it on as quickly as he could. He paused for a moment, the back of his hand against his nose and mouth, looking at his shield critically.

'I don't think there's any way I can bring you,' he told the weapon, apologetically. He set it gently down on the bed, and laid his sword next to it. 'Guess I'll have to rely on my natural skills and cunning.' He stepped backwards, towards the door. 'Don't look at me like that. I'm not necessarily doomed. Hey, a Cat's Chance in Hell is still a Chance.'

He turned towards the balcony door and shook out his arms.

'I still got a chance.'

He took a good, long run-up to the balcony's edge, and hopped onto the railing.

And jumped.

-x-

Hank squinted into the smoke at the injured woman approaching him.

'Sheila?'

Sheila looked up at him briefly, grimacing with bloodied teeth, then stumbled sideways, away from him.

'Red!' He tried to step towards her without releasing Uni's mane, but the unicorn wouldn't budge. 'Oh God, Baby! You're hurt!'

'Hank, no.' Sheila took another wobbly step away. 'I don't want you to see me like this.'

Hank faltered for a moment, then released the unicorn and stepped towards the Thief. Uni didn't bolt, but backed up a little, growling dangerously at the wounded young woman.

'Sheila. ' Hank approached his Ex Girlfriend gingerly, as he would a wild animal. 'What happened? Who did this to you?'

'Doesn't matter...' Sheila mumbled as she edged away. 'Doesn't matter any more.'

Sheila moved her hand a little, and Hank caught sight of the pool of blood on her abdomen.

'Oh God, Red!' He tried to run to her, but she twisted away from him.

'No, Hank. There's nothing you can do.'

He caught her hand and pressed it tightly, the blood from her wound sliding through his fingers.

Somewhere, behind him, a woman's voice softly said 'No. No. It's a trap...'

But before he could turn to see who had spoken, she tore her hand from his grip and took a larger step away from him, her eyes welling up with tears.

'It's too late.'

That's when the unicorn charged her. Screaming, she turned swiftly on her heel and sprinted off. Hank managed to throw himself backwards and roll to safety, away from the fire maddened creature, although it wasn't him that Uni was threatening, it was Sheila.

'No!'

He saw Sheila's orange hair fade into the smoke as she stumbled away, and saw the unicorn raise herself up on her hind legs and whinny madly, the same way she had done that first night... the night that she had massacred the Orcs. Hank remembered the blood on her horn, and the sound of crunching bones, and didn't even know that his bow was in his hands until he had brought one end of it down, hard, on the back of Uni's head.

'No!' he repeated as Uni crumpled to her knees, stunned and disoriented, shaking her head in pain. He watched as the unicorn looked up at him, not with the feral anger he had expected, but with hurt and sadness.

'...Sorry...' he managed to mutter before turning from her and running into the smoke after Sheila's trail.

The same woman's voice called out from behind him as he ran.

'Stop! Stop! It isn't Sheila!'

But he didn't stop. He ran. He dropped his bow to the floor and he ran.

-x-

Bobby ran. The black haired girl was closer now, but running dangerously close to a low outer wall. And she really did look exactly like Terri.

'Terri! Terr! Is that you?'

He faltered a little as the girl grabbed hold of the top of the wall, and started to pull herself up onto it.

'Hey!' he cried. 'That's dangerous. You'll fall into the sea.'

The girl got to her feet on top of the wall, and turned to face him, sadly.

Bobby felt his heart leap into his throat.

'Terri! It is you! What are you doing back here?'

'I came to find you, Bob.'

'Come down from there, Terr. It's dangerous.'

Terri sniffed, and wiped a tear away from her eye. 'It's all gone wrong, Bob. I'm so sorry.'

'Hey...' Bobby frowned, and began to clamber up the wall after her. 'Hey, what are you talking about? Will you get down off this wall?'

'Sure.' Terri nodded, tears dripping from the end of her nose. 'Goodbye, Bob.'

She slipped sideways, before he could catch her, and landed, flat on her back, in the dark water below.

'Terri!' he barely gave himself a second to think, but threw himself from the wall after her.

-x-

Sheila stopped on the outer wall's steps and listened.

'Did anybody hear that?' She asked the world in general. 'That splash?'

But nobody was listening. She ran down to a small window and peered out at the water beyond. Somebody was in there, treading water, looking around himself wildly, searching for something. But it wasn't just Somebody. Sheila recognised her brother's sand coloured hair instantly.

'Bobby! Bobby overboard!'

She ran down a flight of stairs after him to the next window, where she lingered briefly to check on him. A woman was already climbing the low wall that he must have fallen from. Sheila frowned. The woman seemed very familiar. Bobby seemed to recognise her too, since he turned to her and was signaling for her to get back. Sheila stifled a cry, her fingertips against her lips. It was her! Somebody had copied her exactly. And then, she noticed as she saw the doppelganger's face, somebody else had badly beaten her up.

The double only stood there for a moment, before it tumbled from the wall into the sea. It was supposed to have been a clumsy fall, but Sheila could see that there was much more elegance and skill to it than on face value. It was controlled, more of a carefully choreographed dive. There was barely a splash, and once the figure hit the water's surface, it disappeared beneath it completely, like a smooth pebble thrown into a lake.

Still Sheila watched from the window as a third person climbed up onto the wall. Hank.

'Hank, no!' Sheila screamed from the window, 'It isn't me! It isn't...'

Hank wasted no time on the wall. As soon as he was on top of it, he had dived from it into the ocean after the imposter. He didn't notice Bobby. Because Bobby was gone. Sheila gasped as she searched the black water for a sign of him. She'd been so distracted by what had been happening on the wall, she hadn't noticed that her brother was no longer anywhere to be seen.

'Bobby...?' she whispered, 'Hank...?'

Hank was treading water as Bobby had, calling out Sheila's name. She watched in horror as he swam, and called, and swam... and then he stopped still for a second. And then he was dragged down, too suddenly and swiftly to take in a breath, by some unseen force. And then there was nothing but dark, silent sea.

'No!'

Sheila began to sprint down the rest of the stairs.

'No! What's happening?'

She collided with a nervous guard.

'Miss Sheila?' stuttered the young guard, 'you're not supposed to be out of your room.'

Sheila grabbed the other girl's collar, desperately. 'I need to know what's going on.'

'Palace is under attack, Miss, but the fire's just about out now, and...'

'I gathered that!' Sheila tried to control her breathing. 'What I want to know is why there's a double of me covered in blood running around, and what the Hell has just pulled my brother and my boyfriend under the sea!'

'Oh...' the girl's eyes filled with pity. 'They took the Menfolk? We feared they might try.'

'"Menfolk"? What are you talking about? Who took them?'

'Sea Nymphs,' replied the guard, softly.

'Sea Nymphs.' Sheila rolled her eyes. 'Mermaids. Of course. So how do I get them back?'

'I'm so sorry, Miss.' The guard shook her head. 'I'm not sure that you can.'


	5. Chapter 5

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 5

-x-

Darkness. Cold, wet, darkness. And the sensation of being dragged down, down, down. And the growing ache in his lungs as their craving for oxygen became desperate. If he still had his bow, he could... oh, wait... even if he had either bow, there would be little he'd be able to do to help in this situation. Not that having neither to hand didn't add to his general distress. Who had done that to Sheila? Where... Where was Sheila? She'd fallen in, and then she'd been nowhere to be seen. He brushed past something large and solid as he sank. Squinting through the stinging saltwater, he could just make out the shape of Bobby. The Barbarian was just hanging there in the water, helmetless and weaponless, neither swimming nor sinking. Just hanging, his back to him. Hank reached out a hand as he passed, catching the large Barbarian's naked shoulder. Bobby noticed him, and was able to turn a little, mouthing the Ranger's name in surprise. Hank reached out again, and tried to grab hold of Bobby to stop himself sinking through the water, but a pair of milk white hands suddenly snaked themselves around the Barbarian's muscular body, pulling the boys apart. A familiar face appeared from behind Bobby, her black ponytail floating crazily above her head.

Terri.

Only it wasn't Terri. Terri was a sweet girl, with a kind expression and laughing eyes. This Terri had a face twisted with cruelty, and her eyes... they were like glass. Like the eyes on a China Doll. Still, she wound herself around Bobby and kissed him, full on the lips. Hank watched as the other boy's chest swelled with air from the girl's mouth, and felt the terrible empty pang in his lungs again. Covering Bobby's mouth, Terri cast a glance down at Hank's ankles, irritably.

'Air, Ulse. You must remember their air!'

'Of course.'

The voice, beneath him, was warped by the water, but recognisable as the Thief's. He felt tiny, familiar hands begin to pull themselves up his body. He looked up again, to Bobby and Terri... no. No. Something was happening to the girl. It wasn't Terri at all. It wasn't even human. It was hard to make out her shape, like a fractured reflection in broken water, always shifting. Sheila's hands took his face and turned him. He found himself facing another broken image. It wasn't Sheila. He could see that now that she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him. Sheila didn't have gills.

-x-

Janapurna reached down over the unlocked top half of the lower gate and deposited the Unpronounceable in her arms into the ocean beyond, as gently as possible. Aurore slipped gracefully from her grasp and slid into the water, waiting by the gate, gazing up at the Priestess.

Janapurna turned to the group of fifty-odd women, kitted out with air tanks, goggles, flippers and spears. She cleared her throat.

'Sisters. Thank you for volunteering. I can't say that I envy you on what will most likely prove to be a very dangerous task.' Janapurna smiled down at the Unpronounceable. 'However, I put you in the capable hands of my Aurore. Listen to her, because she knows the ocean well. Remember, if you find The Truth, don't look into it, and try not to touch it directly...'

'Wait!'

The cry came from the stairs above. The women turned to see Sheila running down the stairway, laden with breathing apparatus and goggles.

'Sheila,' gasped Janapurna, 'what...?'

'They took Bobby and Hank,' replied Sheila, strapping the air tank over her shoulders.

'The Sea Nymphs?' asked Janapurna.

Sheila nodded. 'If you're goin' after them, I'm goin', too. I don't know what they took from you, but they took my boys and I'm Damn well getting them back.'

'Sheila...' began Janapurna, cautiously, before stopping and sighing. 'Go. They're your men. Aurore will help you find them, but you understand that we have stolen treasure of our own to recover, and we need every woman that can swim...'

'Don't worry,' Sheila retorted. 'I can handle myself.'

'You don't have a spear,' noted the Priestess.

Sheila indicated to the knife in her belt and the mens' folded cutthroat razor tucked into her boot.

'You know how to use those?'

Sheila nodded.

Janapurna bit her lip. 'Have... have you killed?'

'Yes,' answered Sheila, flatly.

'Good,' replied Janapurna. 'The likelihood is that you will have to do so again tonight.'

Sheila pulled the goggles over her eyes. 'Let's just go.'

-x-

Presto felt the cold water around Sheila's body and stopped, panting for breath.

_Three to the sea... two to the sky... and where am I? Where am I?_

Where was he? Half way up the roof of the Inner Sanctum's tower, it appeared. And what was he doing there? He should go back. He should help out. But his head was so full of voices.

_'None of us have ever got in the way of any one of the gang making their own decisions... or their own mistakes...'_

_'It helps you to turn around. You mustn't run from love, but towards it...'_

They should be free to chase love, those friends of his. And wasn't that what they were all doing? They were all running blind into a Labyrinth but then that's love for you. Bob after Terri, Diana after Kosar, Eric after Diana, Hank after Sheila, and Sheila... Presto sighed. Sheila after her brother and Hank. Not him, nobody was even looking for him. It was always going to be Sheila after Hank. The one who gave her those lovely sad eyes, and didn't even appreciate it.

But what was Presto doing? Exactly the same. Chasing after the girl who made him so unhappy. It wasn't as if he and Varla had parted on the best of terms. But perhaps she had changed her mind. He always told himself, in the few months that had followed the last incident with the Illusionist, that he would forgive her if she ever changed her mind.

_Even though she sold you all out, even though she tried to kill Sheila, even though this is obviously a trap?_

It might be a trap. It might. But then again she might have changed her mind. And until he knew, he was just going to have to keep on following her.

-x-

Diana was swathed in silk. The cushions, the sheets, the dress she'd been given as a gift when she'd met him again at last, as if presents mattered in the least. She had no idea how long it had taken her to fly to him. Maybe it had been seconds, maybe it had been weeks. She remembered very little about her journey, just the overpowering need to follow where the beads pointed, and the endless climb. She remembered flying up, up, up all the time, like a freed soul climbing to Heaven. Yes. Yes, this was Heaven. The fact that it looked like Paradise was neither here nor there. She could have found in a mud hut in the middle of a snake infested swamp, and it would still be bliss as long as he was there with her. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him again. He looked just the same as he had done all those years ago. Only... only now he had a certain glow about him. That was the only difference, really. She had been with him for about two hours, and they still hadn't made love. In fact, they had done nothing but kiss. And kiss. And kiss. She could happily kiss him for the next year. Finally, she had found the person that she had all the time in the world for.

He pulled out of the kiss to sit up and pour her another drink.

'Happy, my love?'

She beamed. 'Of course.'

'As am I.' He returned her smile, passing the goblet down to her. 'My only regret is that it took me so long to find you again.'

She put the cup down without drinking. 'There's plenty that happened in that time that I regret too, Kosar. But we're here now. That's what counts.'

'I would have come for you if I could, Diana.' Kosar sighed, propping himself up with an elbow. 'But the Starfall changed me. I can't exist on a Mortal plane any more. I found that out when I tried to go home. I have to live here, now. It's... it's part Realm, part somewhere else.'

Diana smiled up at the silken ceiling drapes. 'I can think of worse places to get stuck.'

'The Beads are from this Plane,' explained Kosar. 'I hoped that you would find them. It was the only way I could think of to show you where I am, and give you a way to get here.'

'They turn me into a swan,' she told him, stroking the necklace.

'No, my love.' He reached across and ran his fingers through her hair. 'No. They turn you into a Goddess.'

'...Goddess...' she echoed. She sighed, and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

'Something still bothers you?' Kosar asked.

Diana sighed again. 'I left my friends behind.'

'You were always going to leave them behind sooner or later.' He smiled softly at her troubled expression. 'You are special, Diana. I knew that the first time I laid eyes on you. You were always destined to soar, and leave the others on the ground. They knew that, too. They'll understand.'

'It's... it's not just that.' She picked a little at the sleeve of her new dress. She had always wondered how she was going to break the news of her distinct lack of chastity to him if she were ever to meet him again. 'I thought we'd never see each other again, Kosar,' she muttered. 'And while I always thought about you... a girl gets lonesome, and...'

'There have been other men?' prompted Kosar, softly.

Diana nodded.

Kosar took her hand. 'Diana. It has been a long time, and you're young and beautiful. There was no need for you to be lonely. I'm no blushing virgin myself, you know.'

'Really?' Diana sat up. 'You're OK with it?'

'Not entirely,' grinned Kosar, 'but I thought if we got our pasts out in the open now we could forget about it in the future. Start with a clean slate.'

'I'd... I'd like that,' whispered Diana.

'Just make all those other boys... vanish.' Kosar caught Diana's eye and smiled. 'Not literally, of course. Not that I couldn't. Because I could. And not that I wouldn't be tempted to.'

'Don't...' blurted Diana.

'Anything you say,' replied Kosar, serenely. 'And I can't say that I blame any of them for wanting to be with you, Diana.'

Diana smiled shyly, and lay down to kiss him again.

'What's that song?' asked Kosar, suddenly.

Diana blinked. 'What song?'

'You've been humming since you got here,' Kosar said, 'always the same song.'

'Well, I guess I've got plenty to sing about...'

'Something about a Castle of Love,' added Kosar. 'It's very pretty. What is it?'

Diana bit her lip momentarily. She was singing _that_ song? what was she singing that song for?

'It's... it's Stevie Wonder...' _the stereo's just a loan, Rich Boy..._ 'It's an Earth song. One of my favourites.'

'I'd like to learn some Earth songs,' smiled Kosar, 'especially one of your favourites.'

Diana sat up again. 'Maybe another time.'

'Are you all right?'

She nodded. 'Um. I might go for a walk. Explore the grounds. You don't mind...?'

'You're not a caged bird any more, Diana,' replied Kosar. 'Take as long as you like. I'll get you something to eat in the meantime.'

He got up, and she allowed him to help her to her feet.

'Thanks, Kosar. Thank you so much for all of this.'

'I would do anything for you, Diana. I love you.'

Diana returned his smile. 'I love you, too.'

-x-

_'I can't believe your piece of shit car ate my Queen!'_

_'It's only a chewed up cassette, Eric. I'll buy you a new one.'_

_'It's another half hour to the beach. What are we gonna listen to now?'_

_'Don't you dare sing.'_

_'What's wrong with my singing?'_

_'You don't know any good songs.'_

_Then they'd paused, and she'd felt him staring at the side of her face as she'd driven, and then he'd started singing._

_'Over time...'_

_She'd laughed. 'That's off my tape, isn't it?'_

_'...I have built up my castle of love, just for two, 'though you never knew you were my reason...'_

Diana brushed her hand over an exquisitely carved pillar, and leaned into it, watching the birds strut and flutter on the lawn. Everything was so beautiful. A Grand Palace, acres of grass and flowers beneath her feet, above her head a clear, bright, starry sky. It was the type of sky that her Father would pray for, and that her Mother would hate since it usually meant a night alone while her Dad stayed up at the observatory. Even on vacation, he would spend nights like this outside with a telescope. Once upon a time she'd been excited by it too, and had stayed up with him, learning about constellations and such. And then she'd come back from the funfair so tall and old and strange, and she'd grown quiet and reserved on clear nights, sitting alone in her room, gazing blankly out of her window. And then that, too, had stopped. She'd began to spend her nights training in gyms, or sitting in bars, or lying in strangers' beds, and she'd never looked up at the stars.

_'Look! Look! A shooting star!'_

_'Uh-huh.' She hadn't looked. She had been the only one to miss it._

_'Pretty... Oh, Hank, it's so pretty.' Sheila had pulled on her boyfriend's sleeve. 'Stop the car? Please?'_

_'Sure'._

_They'd pulled over, and stopped. It had been so dark, and so quiet, save the rustle of Sheila's gown as the couple had got out of the front seats of the car and raised their heads to the Heavens, hand in hand. In the back seat, she had tried to ignore everything - the beautiful stars, the happy pair smooching in the starlight, her own 'date', sulking next to her,_

_'Shoulda got a cab to take us back...'_

_'I wanted to go for a drive with my friends,' she'd snapped back._

_'Yeah, but we're not goin' anywhere.' He'd leaned over to the dashboard and honked the horn at the couple, who had begun to dance with one another. 'Hey! Brad and Janet! Get a room!'_

_She remembered Hank grinning back as he lifted Sheila and span her, her long, pink skirt billowing in the starlight as she twirled._

_'Get a girlfriend!'_

_He'd just sat back and sighed. 'What a sickening display.'_

_She'd smiled a little to herself. 'Anyone would think they were in love.'_

_'No need for them to be all Maria Von Trapp about it.'_

_'What would _you_ know?'_

_There had been a long, awkward pause then. The insult that he didn't retort to was always the insult too far, and she'd wished that she could have taken it back. But she couldn't, so they had just sat there._

_'I'm a pretty crummy date, aren't I?' he'd said, eventually._

_'No...' she'd conceded, pulling at her neckline for the hundredth time, 'at least you didn't turn up looking like a ten buck Hooker.'_

_He had looked down at his Armani tux. 'Man... but that was the look I was going for...' he'd grinned up at her. 'Oh, you were talking about_ your_ outfit, huh?'_

_They'd both laughed, and he'd pulled a small flask out of his coat pocket, unscrewed it and taken a slug._

_'What is that?'_

_'Scotch. Stole it from the Old Man. Hardly enough to get wasted, but it's a cold night, y'know?'_

_'It's the middle of summer!'_

_He'd offered the flask to her. 'I bet you're cold anyway.'_

_'Are you kidding?' She'd taken the flask from him. 'I'm practically naked in this dress.'_

_'You look beautiful,' he'd told her matter-of-factly as she'd drank._

_'Slutty,' she'd corrected him._

_'But beautiful. Like a big, beautiful slut.'_

_And then they'd carried on drinking, and watching the couple dance, and there would have been no sound at all, had he not been humming_.

She wondered whether the suns would reach high enough to bring a dawn to this place. She didn't know for sure. It wasn't entirely the Realm any more, after all. In a way, she hoped that morning wouldn't come. With the sky like this, it seemed as though they were up amongst the stars, at one with them.

'...and 'though you don't believe that they do, they do come true...'

She bit her lip, silencing herself. She was singing it again! Why that song? She finally had the one man back that she had been waiting for all her life, and now all she could think about was the other guy. The perfect one, the idol of her life, the one that she had dreamed about seeing again and who was still as lovely as ever had lifted her up, brought her to paradise, wrapped her in silk and starlight. And here she was, remembering the boy who got gum in her hair. The guy who had coughed and sneezed and bled on her, who wheezed in his sleep and chewed too loud and never noticed the food stuck between his teeth or the sleep lodged in the corner of his eye until hours after she had. The guy who had spent the last eight years in her pocket, so that she knew every one of his flaws, both great and small, inside out.

She walked from the pillar slowly, out onto the lawn, amongst the exotic birds that flocked and frolicked there.

Kosar, she had noticed, didn't smell of anything. She could smell silk and roses when he was with her, but that was probably his clothes, and the drink that he had been pouring her. Eric always smelled of something. In the Realm it was usually either sweat or the crappy soap that they used to wash themselves whenever they could. When he had been burned, he had smelled of Hospital - of bandages and disinfectant. She recalled the years between then and their return to the Realm. Left to his own devices on Earth he smelled... good. Really good. The headrest of her car's passenger seat would always smell fantastic for hours after she ever gave him a lift anywhere. But that was all fake. Nothing but expensive shampoos and aftershaves in his bathroom. And by the time she left him that night he'd smelled of sweat and Realm soap again. Although that wasn't true... that night he'd smelled of Sex. Their Sex.

She grinned. Amongst the flittering birds, one caught her eye. A giant peacock. It was standing stock still, a tranquil pool of bright blue amongst the flurry of moving feathers. It caught her eye, and watched her as she approached it slowly.

Their Sex. Their Sex. It smelled unique, the joining of those two particular bodies, their spit, their sweat, their genitals... it was basic. It was primal. That was all.

But she'd miss it.

No. That was ridiculous. She was doing it again! This shouldn't happen. She'd found her Meant To Be. She'd found her Happy Ever After now. When Snow White married Prince Charming, she didn't start wandering around the palace humming 'Hi-Ho' and pining after Dopey.

'I'm happy here,' she told herself, aloud. 'I've been rescued by my Prince Charming.'

As if in answer, the peacock fanned its glimmering tail at her. She laughed a little. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn that the giant, beautiful bird was giving her the Evil Eye.

'Well, hello, Mister Peacock. Aren't you a pretty thing?'

Still the creature scowled at her, ruffling its tail feathers. She pointed to the display.

'Hey. Aren't you only supposed to do that for Lady Peacocks? Hate to disappoint you, but I'm afraid I'm spoken for.'

The peacock hissed.

'No need to get mad at me about it,' she laughed, 'it's just my love life's complicated enough as it is without throwing a glorified lawn ornament into the confusion...'

Still the bird hissed furiously, standing its ground. Her eyes narrowed. There was something caught around the creature's throat.

'Hey,' she said, 'are you hurt?' She extended a hand gently out towards the red cloth tied around the peacock's slender neck. 'Who did that to you...?'

The bird lashed out, pecking her hard on the hand with its sharp beak, drawing blood.

'Ow!' She drew her hand back, cradling it in pain. 'Little bastard! What the Hell did you do that for?'

The peacock cried out at her, then turned and flew off, sending the other birds into a fluttering panic.

'Diana!' Kosar came sprinting over to her, and pressed her injured hand between both of his. 'My love, what happened? How were you hurt?'

'It's nothing,' she sighed. 'Your peacock bit me.'

'Peacock?' asked Kosar, blankly.

'Yeah, you know. Really pretty feathers, on the males at least...'

Diana searched Kosar's clueless expression.

'They might be different here. Earth ones don't usually grow as big as yours...'

Kosar shrugged. 'A lot of birds find their way up here. But not from your world.'

'You must have seen it before,' said Diana. 'It's much bigger than all these other birds. Bright coloured and loud and... and aggressive...' Diana trailed off, thoughtfully.

'What? What is it?'

Diana touched the necklace again. It didn't feel as full as it had the first time she'd found it. He wouldn't... He wouldn't dare...

'How do these beads work, Kosar?'

Kosar ran his fingers through her hair. 'I'm not sure. I just know that they do.'

'Do... do they have to be together to work?'

'They seem to be drawn together,' replied Kosar, 'a sort of magnetism. But they each exist as a separate object. Why?'

Diana shook her head. 'No reason. Um... I'm gonna get this cleaned up.' She pulled her bleeding hand to her chest and began to back away towards the palace. 'I'll find you when I'm done.'

'Tell me if you need a bandage,' called Kosar after her.

He watched her run back inside, and then turned out to the lawn, peering up into the sky.

'I had a feeling you'd follow her,' he announced, calmly. 'In fact, I hoped that you would. It's been brought to my attention that you're far more trouble than you're worth. Your wife failed quite miserably in the task she was set. Can you believe, she wanted to keep you? I wonder what your appeal is. I really do.' He reached down and plucked a wildflower from where it had been growing.

'Silly little mortal thing,' he muttered, 'so bright, so frail.'

The wildflower began to wilt in his hand. Its petals started to drop off, one by one.

'She loves me,' Kosar continued, 'she loves you not. She loves me, she loves you not. You need to understand that, Eric. I can help you with that. I can bring you that peace. And then you can just... wither away.'

With that, he dropped the dry, brown stalk, and ground it beneath his heel.


	6. Chapter 6

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 6

-x-

The water around Sheila's ears made strange sounds. It seemed to be speaking to her. She looked about herself as she swam. The hoarde of women swimming alongside her were doing so silently, but occasionally one would peel off and swim ahead, as though responding to unspoken commands. Sheila frowned to herself.

'Sheila,' said the water, 'Sheila. Can you hear?'

Sheila blinked. Ahead of her, the Unpronounceable stopped and turned, watching her.

'Aurore...?' Sheila asked herself, 'Aurore can't speak...'

Aurore grinned sharply. 'Maybe not,' said the water, 'maybe I don't have to. Maybe I can make the water speak for me.'

Sheila stared at the toothsome Unpronounceable.

'Janapurna and I have to be able to communicate some way or other, after all,' continued the water.

'Wow,' thought Sheila.

'Indeed,' replied the water. 'We are getting close to the Sea Nymphs' City now, Sheila. Look beneath you.'

Sheila looked. Shining through the gloomy water were a series of lights, many shining through large, translucent spheres on the sea bed, others creating crazy lines.

'If you wish to help us with our mission,' continued the water, 'you are welcome to do so. If you still need to retrieve your men, now is the time for us to say our goodbyes. With any luck, we will meet again.'

Aurore met eyes with Sheila, and swam a little way towards her.

'You are worried,' said the water as the Unpronounceable took her hand, 'you know you must rescue your brother and your lover, but you are disorientated and alone and... and you do not wish to kill again. The latter I cannot help you with. I have had to take many lives myself, and it has never got easier, I'm afraid.' Aurore pulled Sheila into her, giving her a small hug. The Unpronounceable felt sleek, muscular and warm in the freezing water. 'As for the former,' continued the water, 'I can give you some information which may be of use. The Nymphs who took your men would keep them in their private residence, they would not wish to share them. And they are likely to be particularly interested in the dry world - watch out for houses decorated with human trinkets... shipwreck debris and the like. It is unlikely that there will be many guards to where the menfolk are being held, but considering Sea Nymphs are famously negligent with their live spoils from the topside, you may not have much time. Almost all captured humans have ended up drowning or asphyxiating after only a few hours in the Sea Nymphs' care.'

Sheila nodded. 'Thanks', she mumbled through her breathing kit.

Aurore took Sheila by both shoulders, holding her out at arm's length, gazing at her proudly.

'You are very brave, little coralhair human,' said the water, 'your love gives you courage. Be careful, Sheila. Be careful not to waste such a powerful love.' Aurore quickly kissed Sheila's forehead. 'Now go.'

And with that, the strange, ebony coloured creature turned swiftly on her tail and swam back into the throng of women.

Sheila set her face, and, cloaking herself, began to dive towards the lights of the city.

-x-

Hank opened an eye. He was out of the water, at least, but he was soaking wet and freezing, and the hemispherical room he was in was tiny and damp. The air inside it was stale and close. Everything stank of the sea. He noticed that his belt was undone, and his leggings unlaced. He began to do himself up again, cursing, searching his memory for how he had got there, or what had happened to him that had loosened his nethergarments so. He could remember being kissed, and his lungs filling with much needed air... after that, everything was pretty much a blur...

Bobby! Bobby had been with him! And one of those damn creatures had been all over the poor kid... Hank sat bolt upright. The Barbarian was already conscious, sitting hunched up against the wall of the dome. His helmet was missing, but otherwise the teenager's clothes seemed mercifully intact.

'Bob...' muttered Hank, 'you OK?'

Bobby nodded, frowning. 'You, Hank? Can... can you remember what happened?'

'I'm not sure,' replied Hank, 'There were these strange creatures, weren't there...?'

'I saw Terri,' added Bobby, miserably, 'at least, I thought I did... it wasn't her. It looked like her, but it wasn't.' The Barbarian looked up at Hank. 'I thought I saw Sheila, too.'

'Yeah.' Hank nodded, glumly. 'I think we were both tricked. Those things must've been shape shifters, or something...'

Bobby hugged his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. 'I miss her, Hank. I miss her so very much.'

'Bob?' Hank shuffled over to the large Teen. 'I thought you were over Terri.'

'How can I be?' Bob wiped a sudden onslaught of tears away with the back of his hand. 'I can pretend that I'm cool with it til I'm blue in the face, I can be a big hypocrite and tell you that it's all going to get easier, but it's not, Hank. It's not. It doesn't get easier. Half the time it's like I'm dead inside, I'm a robot, and then when I remember her I wish I could be numb again because it just hurts so much... I love her. She's the One. She's the Only One. Why did I throw all that away, Hank? Why?'

Hank gazed at his own feet. 'You're talking to the wrong guy, Bob. I just did the same dumb thing and I still can't work out why I did it.'

'That woman I met before Furnus showed up,' continued Bobby, tearfully, 'Lilac, her name was. I liked her because she was sad like me, she was lonely too. But her husband was murdered. That's why she was alone. She fought for him, Hank, she fought tooth and nail for her love, and she's still fighting now. I... I just let mine go. How could I have been so stupid?'

'I guess...' Hank huddled himself up next to the Barbarian. 'I guess we can all be kinda stupid, when it comes to love.'

-x-

Yes, stupid stupid stupid because why was he still running, why was he still climbing the roofs when they needed him, his friends needed him, Hank and Bobby running out of air and hope, Diana fading further and further from humanity, Sheila and Eric not running but swimming, flying, swimming, flying into darkness and fast moving blades, so dangerous, so dangerous love could be...

He could smell blood ahead. He could hear a woman scream out.

'What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?'

He stopped. There she was, standing still, right in front of him. They were on top of the spire of the Inner Sanctum. There was nowhere else to climb.

'Presto,' she said.

'Varla,' he said. 'What have you done?'

-x-

Sylka looked up from her Dry Land trinkets. Her sister had returned.

'Merid is not with you?' asked the younger Sea Nymph.

'Not yet,' Ulse replied. 'They are securing The Truth. She will be back soon.'

'She will not find the pets,' added Sylka, nervously, 'we have hidden them well...?'

'She never finds them,' replied Ulse, 'or if she does, she does not care. Once the humans have been taken, what is there to prevent?'

Ulse picked up a lady's comb, and fiddled with it. 'Have you played with yours yet?'

Sylka looked at her feet, a little bashful. 'He is afraid. I wanted to wait until he has grown used to being here.'

Ulse scoffed. 'He will never get used to it. He is a Land Creature.' She fiddled with the comb again, not noticing the salvaged oar behind her rise up, almost magically, in the water. 'I am bored with mine. Can I play with yours?'

'No!' whined Sylka, 'you said I could have the big one. You do this every time, Ulse, you promise me one thing, and then...'

The oar lunged forward through the water and hit the back of Ulse's frail, translucent head, knocking her out cold. She crumpled slowly through the water, her long, fine hair swirling above her head like smoke. Sylka didn't have time to scream before she found a hand clenched in her own hair and sharp steel at her throat.

'Where are they?' demanded a disembodied voice from behind her. The voice was strange - warped and muffled, as though its mouth were full.

'We do not have The Truth,' stammered Sylka, 'the Elders have it. Please... please...' the Sea Nymph gasped as the blade bit at her thin skin. 'We are only juveniles. We are not the ones you want.'

'Where are the men?' The voice behind her was only growing angrier.

'Who...' squeaked Sylka, 'who are you?'

'They're _my_ men,' continued the voice. Sylka felt her hair pulled back harder. 'Take me to them. Now.'

Sylka froze, searching the ground for her comatose sister. Ulse was gone.

'Do it!' insisted the voice. 'I've killed before, I'd do it again...'

'You wouldn't, though.' This new voice was different. Male. The voice of the longhair. Sylka's eyes widened as the longhaired male stepped from behind the clutter of their room.

At the sight of him, the unseen attacker loosened her grip on Sylka slightly. 'Hank?' said the voice.

'You didn't want to kill,' continued the longhair, 'you never did. If you had the choice, you wouldn't, would you Sheila?'

Sylka could suddenly see a shock of orange at her shoulder. She dared turn her head slightly. The one holding her was barely bigger than Sylka herself, a fair, frail looking human female with bright hair. Sylka recognised her instantly as the one Ulse had imitated to lure the longhair male out into the sea. Only this one wasn't bleeding. She had a knife in her hand, a razor tucked into her boot, goggles over her eyes, a breathing tube in her mouth and an airtank strapped to her back. As Sylka watched her from the corner of her eye, the human let go of her hair and took a step towards the longhair.

'Red?' said the male as the girl moved towards him, 'Babe? It'll be OK. You can put the killing behind you.'

Sylka began to back away. No. No. Stupid Ulse! This disguise wasn't going to work!

'Just...' the male held out his hand. 'Just give me the knife, Sheila, and you, me and Bobby... we can all go home, and all of this can stop.'

The girl nodded. 'Answer one question, Hank?'

'Anything, Red. Anything you want.'

'How are you breathing?'

The longhair looked down at himself, quickly, eyes widening at the omission of an oxygen tank anywhere. When he looked up again he was thinner, sharper, strangely androgynous and see-through. Its face twisted into a snarl and it caught the fist flying up towards it.

Sylka saw the human move her free hand swiftly to her boot. There was a flash of metal. Sylka was not proud. Sylka was not brave. Sylka ran.

-x-

Diana didn't look up at the flurry of feathers as she rinsed the wound on her hand under a fountain.

'You'd better not have given me Rabies, you bastard.'

'You'd better not have let him fuck you, you fucking... fuck...'

That made her turn her head a little. What she saw was half Eric, half peacock, but becoming more human shaped every second.

'I thought it was you,' she muttered. 'You stole some of my beads, didn't you?'

'Just one.'

'How dare you,' she growled, turning back to her bleeding hand. 'How dare you take what belongs to me? How dare you come here?'

'How dare I? How dare _I_?' Eric took an angry step towards her, his clenched fists pressed against his chest. 'How dare _you_, Diana? How dare you treat me like this? How dare you string me along like that and then just leave? How could you leave me for another guy while I was sleeping?'

'He's not just another guy, Eric. This is Kosar. You knew that I'd always go to him if he called...'

'We agreed you wouldn't use the "K" Word,' interrupted Eric through clenched teeth.

'I'm sorry about the way it happened, Eric,' replied Diana, 'but that's just the way it is.'

'Well, if you're not going to keep away from the Bad Words, neither am I,' yelled Eric. 'I love you, Diana. God help me, I love you, you heartless bitch, and that's what I'm doing here. You understand?'

Diana looked down at her hurt hand. 'Fine. You've said your piece, and I've listened. Now you'd better go.'

'Go?' Eric snorted a laugh, humourlessly. 'What, you think I changed species and flew all the way up here just to tell you somethin' you already knew?'

Diana was silent, but hoped that Eric wasn't going to say what she was expecting him to say.

'You're coming back, Diana. To me. To all of us.'

'No... no...'

'I'm bringing you back where you belong.'

'I don't belong there!' Diana fought tears back behind her eyes. 'I don't belong in the Realm and, what really sucks is, I don't belong on Earth any more either.'

'Neither do I, Diana! Neither do any of us! And that's why where you belong is with us. In the group.'

'This isn't about the group, Eric. This is about you! I belong here!'

'Like Hell you do. This place is dead. Nothin' but a well decorated tomb. You... you're alive, you're so very alive. You'll suffocate here. I'm just rescuing you from an eternity of comfortable tedium.'

Diana snarled, forcing herself not to scream. 'You're not rescuing me. I'm not in danger, I'm not unhappy here, I'm not some Damsel in Distress. This is my choice, damn you, and I do not want to be rescued. So just fly away home, why don't you?'

Eric tensed even further. 'Not without a fight.'

'He's not human any more,' seethed Diana. 'He's a God. You're no match for him, on any level. How the Hell do you expect to fight him?'

Eric arched an eyebrow. 'Who said anything about fighting _him_?'

'I do.' The third voice was calm and level, but still made the other two leap out of their skins. They both turned to see Kosar, a strange, serene smile on his face, as he slowly walked towards them.

'You come here,' continued Kosar, 'invading my world with the jewel you stole from her, you threaten my Diana, you try to take her back down into the mud, you break her skin and draw her blood, you call her those base names... I would certainly fight you, Eric. I'd consider it an obligation to Diana's honour.'

'Kosar...' whispered Diana. 'Don't.'

Kosar ran a hand through Diana's hair. It was all Eric could do to keep himself from hurling himself at Kosar, teeth and fists first.

'Of course I won't, if you say so,' Kosar told Diana. 'I know he is your friend. And I would kill him. He doesn't even have his weapon. Silly child.'

'I'm standing right here, Kosar.'

Kosar regarded him again, coldly. 'So you are. Even though it's been made clear by both of us that you are not welcome. How very thoughtless of you.'

'What happened to you, Kosar?' Eric shook his head, disapprovingly. 'I mean, you were pretty smug and insufferable before, but at least it wasn't intentional. And now you talk to me like this, even though I helped save your life...'

'You didn't do it for me, though, did you?' Kosar flashed him a freezing smile. 'And now I am returning the favour. For my Diana, I will save you. I will spare you. Even though I'd happily tear your skin right off your body, even though I can smell your pathetic monkey mortality all over her, you shouldn't fear for your life.'

'Kosar...' began Diana.

'It's all right,' cooed Kosar. 'I said we'd clean the slate. How can I be angered by something that never happened?'

'It happened, Kosar,' grinned Eric, 'like it or not, it happened, over and over and over...'

'Eric!'

Kosar just shook his head, calmly. 'You really are disgusting, little man. How can you possibly see the things you did as Loving her? Your tinkerings with her... they're nothing. Now please go. You're upsetting Diana.'

'Am not!' Eric folded his arms in defiance.

'Yes you are, Eric,' replied Diana, quietly. 'Please go?'

Kosar put a hand around Diana's waist. 'You heard the Lady.'

Eric tried to step towards her. 'Diana?'

'Don't touch her, Eric. I'm warning you.'

Ignoring Kosar, he reached out to brush her arm. 'Diana...'

Kosar was as fast as lightning, and just as powerful. With just one hand he grabbed Eric by the throat and lifted him up off the ground. Before Eric had chance to react, Kosar flung the young man backwards across the gardens and over the edge into nothingness.

Diana gasped, and took an automatic step towards the direction Eric had disappeared, but Kosar pulled her in to an embrace.

'Kosar...?'

'I did warn him, my love. He wasn't going to leave of his own accord.'

'But...'

'He'll be fine, Diana. I didn't take the bead from him. He can still fly to safety.'

'If he can fly, he'll come back.'

Kosar kissed Diana's forehead. 'That is up to him. Let's go inside.'

-x-

Sheila's razor blade swung a little too slowly underwater, and the Sea Nymph disguised as Hank was just able to duck back from it. Still, the edge of it caught the creature's cheek. Enraged, Ulse glared at her attacker as the salt water stung the fresh gash. She caught a strange look in Sheila's expression, and the human faltered slightly. A warm feeling of restored confidence began to flood through the Sea Nymph. The damn human girl might well know that this shape wasn't her lover, but it still unnerved her to attack it. Not as much as Ulse might have hoped, it seemed that this girl was used to misleading disguises - but it still troubled her enough to get the better hand. Ulse pulled away from the human slightly, still clutching her wrist, and lifted both legs, kicking them hard into the human girl's chest. Sheila was thrown back, winded, and Ulse flipped neatly onto her feet, grabbing the oar she had been hit with and breaking it in two, creating dangerous shards at the end. Ulse moved fast towards the fallen girl, raising the oar, but a swift boot flew suddenly threw the water into her knee, causing her to stumble.

The gravity of the water helped Sheila to gracefully upright herself in that moment the well placed kick had given her. Ulse took a couple of steps back, oar still raised, watching her assailant straighten herself and clench both fists hard around the handles of sharp, twinkling blades. And that's when Ulse caught it. That sudden flash, like the steel in the girl's hands and just as dangerous... in her head, and in her heart.

Oh no. Oh barnacles and shark shit. This girl was angry. This girl was furious. And not just at Ulse. Oh no.

Ulse took another step back as Sheila approached her slowly, purposefully.

This girl was so very angry at the longhair. At the shape she had thought would distract her. Ulse frowned. Maybe she should change sh...

A roundhouse kick to the side of the head sent Ulse flying through the water. She rolled to her back just in time to see the human girl charging towards her. She lifted the splintered oar, sharp end pointed towards the girl. The girl span away from the shards of wood, but Ulse lunged the oar at her as she dodged, catching the girl's hip. The girl didn't cry out, but instinctively lashed out with her dagger, catching nothing but wood. Ulse dragged herself to her feet, lunging the oar towards the girl yet again, but this time the girl was able to kick it out of Ulse's hands. Now weaponless again, Ulse had no choice but to vault backwards behind a table where she knew her sister kept her collection of glass and china. Before she was able to do so, however, she had been grabbed by the hair and pulled towards the girl. Ulse tried to push the girl away, but she had a firm grip. The girl pressed the blade of her dagger against Ulse's throat.

'Where are they?' mumbled Sheila.

Ulse said nothing.

'Where are they?'

So angry, yet still so possessive. What a strange thing this girl was.

Ulse grinned, despite the danger. 'They're mine, now, Sheila.'

The girl's face creased with frustration and rage. Without releasing Ulse's hair, she moved her free hand away, flipping the dagger in her fingers to point towards her elbow, and hit Ulse hard, with the blunt handle of her weapon. Ulse stumbled back a little, dazed and yet relieved. So the girl couldn't kill her, after all. She may as well not have those fancy blades. Still, Sheila tried pointing her dagger at Ulse again.

'I said...'

Ulse clenched those big, masculine hands of the form she had taken and punched Sheila square in the face. She followed it up with two more blows to the stomach and a kick to the shin, causing the shocked girl to lose her balance and topple into Ulse's arms... the longhair's arms. It only took a second for Ulse to wrap one long, strong, male arm around the girl, pinning her arms to her side, and with the second hand, pull the breathing tube from the girl's mouth. Sheila began to struggle as Ulse wrapped the tube around the girl's throat and tugged. Ulse smiled down at Sheila as she pulled again, reaching into the strangled girl's memory and making the face of her disguise slightly younger, and much softer and kinder. Through the girl's goggles, Ulse could see Sheila's eyes brighten with tears. Ulse squeezed the girl harder, embracing her so hard that it forced any air she had been holding in her lungs out of her.

'Sshh, baby,' Ulse whispered with the longhair's voice, 'shush now, Red. Just go back to sleep...'

Sheila wasn't underwater. She was a long way away, and a long time ago. Her pink bedroom. She'd had another nightmare... about the Realm. Only the Realm was worse than it had been before, and everyone was dead... but he was there now. He was there, holding her. He loved her. He always would. She could sleep.

But she couldn't. And he wouldn't. He wouldn't always love her. It couldn't stay like this.

The pink was becoming grey. She couldn't breathe. It hadn't been a dream. They were back in that terrible place, and he had gone all wrong somehow, and there was that damn Orc on top of her... 'mm, girlie so delicate, so delicate, so delicate...' and what could she do? She had to live. What could she...

The grey turned to red, and she felt her hand tighten around her dagger.

And all of a sudden she could move again.

-x-

'What have you done? Why are you here?'

Presto hadn't meant it to sound so harsh. Varla didn't move, she just stood there, blinking as tears stained her cheeks.

'Presto...' she said again, 'Presto... I'm sorry.'

'I know,' sighed Presto, 'me too.'

'I wanted to...' began Varla. She cut herself off and started again. 'Evil powers have always been interested in my talents, Presto,' she said at last, sadly.

Presto nodded. 'And you were able to defy them, for so long...'

'Until now,' added the Illusionist. 'That's part of why you're so disappointed in me, isn't it?'

'You lied to me, Varla. You used me, and my friends.'

Varla hung her head. 'I owe myself more than becoming like this. I want to make it stop. I want to end the control that evil has over me.'

'You can escape,' replied Presto, hopefully. 'You can join us. We can help you...'

'And where would that leave my people?' Varla smiled sadly. 'Where would that leave _me_? Do you really think that somebody can be truly redeemed, once they've been seduced by evil?'

Presto tried to make a move towards Varla, but she shuffled backwards away from him, closer to the precarious edge of the spire-top.

'Yes, Varla. I do. It takes a lot of time and energy, but I believe it can be done. Don't you?'

'Maybe,' sighed Varla, 'but I don't have any more time, and I don't have any more energy. And my people, Presto. My people will suffer.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'I've thought of a way out, Presto. The only way out.'

He could see it now, this Only Way Out of Varla's. She let him in ever so briefly to see her plan, then pushed him out again, bolting the door.

'Varla, no.'

'It's the only way, Presto.'

'Varla...' it was Presto's turn to cry now. 'Varla, please don't. There are other ways...'

'No there's not. Don't you think I've thought about this long and hard? If I'm gone, along with my powers, Furnus will lose interest in my land. There would be no point in punishing my people if I were not there to see them suffer.'

'You can't be sure of that!'

'I know her, Presto. She will leave them be, and I'll be free.'

'You'll be dead.'

Varla gazed at him, sadly. 'That's the closest to freedom I can hope for. Please understand. It's gone too far. I have to get out.'

-x-

'We have to get out,' muttered Hank.

Bobby looked up at him. 'Huh?'

Hank got to his feet. 'Whatever brought us here... they were dangerous. And have you noticed the air?'

Bobby nodded, miserably. 'Or lack of it.'

'Exactly, added Hank.' This is only a small bubble, only a limited amount of oxygen...'

'And out there,' replied Bobby, pointing at the domed wall, 'there's even less. To the point of zero percent. Do you have any idea how deep we are, Hank? 'Cause I don't. Do you really think we can make it all the way topside with just a lungful?'

Hank paused, blinking. 'This isn't like you, Bob.'

'Yes it is,' sighed the Barbarian, sinking his head to meet his knees. 'I just don't let it out much. That's all.'

'So what are we gonna do, Bob? Just curl up and die?'

'You tell me.'

'Well it's one or the other, Bobby, because I can tell ya, down here in the deep there's nobody coming to rescue us...'

A trapdoor in the centre of the floor opened up suddenly, revealing a pale, copper haired head. Sheila spat out her air tube as she pulled herself up.

'Hey, guys.'

Her voice was strangely hollow, and she still had mystery cuts and bruises. Insictinctively, Hank backed away from her.

'You... you're not the real Sheila. Stay away from us.'

'Of course I am.' Sheila closed the trapdoor, surveying the boys. 'Have you guys just been moping, all this time? Didn't you wanna even try to escape?'

'I don't believe you,' Hank replied, warily. 'Prove it. Prove you're my Sheila.'

'I'm not Your Sheila,' she answered, approaching Hank, 'I'm the real deal all right, but I'm not Your Sheila. And you want proof?' She leaned into him, and whispered into his ear. 'You kissed Nym. You said you wanted more, but she ran off. You seemed to have forgotten the things I can see when I can't be seen myself. And now she's gone you say you want me back. Of course it's me, Hank. You'd never be this cruel to anybody else.'

She stepped back, studying his expression as he tried to hide his reaction from Bobby.

'Sheila...' Hank managed, eventually. 'You came back to rescue us.'

'How do you know it is her?' asked Bobby, getting to his feet. 'What did she say?'

Hank floundered for a brief moment, then shot the Barbarian a quick smile. 'She said you still like eating your boogers.'

Bobby frowned, guiltily. 'Do not.'

Sheila didn't even raise half a smile. 'We don't have much time. We have to go while the coast is clear. You can share my oxygen.'

Bobby watched her as she walked back toward the trapdoor.

'How did you find us, Sis? How did you get past those... those things?'

'Do me a favour, Bobby,' replied Sheila, opening the trapdoor, 'never ask me that question again.'


	7. Chapter 7

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 7

-x-

Diana found herself being lead into a strange room of Kosar's palace. She'd never seen it before. It was odd. It didn't sit right with the rest of his world, or the man she thought she knew at all. It was like a hoard. Ancient artifacts, strange sculptures, and... and weapons. She could tell from their simplistic style that many of them had to be thousands of years old, but they were all as shining and sharp as the day they were made.

'Kosar?' she asked, quietly, 'What is this place?'

'My little treasury,' Kosar smiled back, calmly, 'my little collection of Found Things.'

'It's an arsenal,' replied Diana. 'Kosar, I don't like this place. Why are we here?'

'I wanted to show you around, my love.' Kosar gave her a soft smile. 'I thought you would be interested in my trinkets.' He paused, and gently pulled a large spear from its mount, holding it sideways on for her to see. 'This is my favourite. The Spear of Rahmeh.'

Diana frowned at it. 'It's old. Old and important. Look at all that gold. It's magic, too. Am I right?'

Kosar nodded. 'Rahmeh was a very wise King of the East, over five thousand years ago. He invented the judicial system. And this...' he stroked a hand down the spear's handle, fondly, 'this defended the innocent from lies, and punished the dishonest. There was never an unfair trail in the reign of Rahmeh.'

'It's a weapon,' answered Diana. 'All weapons can be misused. Even magical ones.'

'Not this one,' Kosar told her, calmly.

'All weapons, Kosar. All of them.' Diana shivered a little. 'Can we go?'

'What's the hurry, my love?'

'I just...' Diana sighed. 'I don't want him to come back, itching for a fight, in a room full of weapons.'

Kosar smiled, evenly. 'You don't think that seeing me armed will frighten him away?'

'He's no coward, Kosar. The Eric you met seven years ago... it's not just that he's changed since then. All you had time to see was the surface of him. Even back then, he'd risk his neck for the people he cared about, and for what he thought was right. And these days he's only the more dogmatic. He'll fight you, Kosar. He'll try to fight you, because... because he thinks me and him should be together.'

Kosar didn't move, didn't smile, didn't frown. He just stood there, holding the spear, watching Diana impassively.

'And what do you think, Diana?'

Diana fell silent. For some reason, she couldn't answer. She couldn't even ask herself what the right answer was. She wanted to say no, no of course Eric was being stupid, he didn't understand that Kosar was her soulmate. But something was stopping her. What was stopping her was the fact that she wasn't absolutely sure that that was actually the case. He'd looked so pretty, sleeping there in her arms...

The awkward silence was broken abruptly by a streak of shimmering blue streaming noisily and furiously towards Kosar. Without losing the momentum of flight, Eric swiftly changed from his bird form, and was able to fall into Kosar with fully human fists, feet and teeth.

'Eric, no!'

Kosar snorted a laugh as Eric furiously pummeled at him, then merely sprang to his feet, leaving Eric disorientated and empty handed on the floor.

'I'm fine,' Kosar told Diana as he picked up the dropped spear and took a step towards her.

'Oh I get it,' Eric spat, 'you gotta have weapons to fight me, huh?'

'He's not gonna fight you,' answered Diana. 'Kosar... you're not gonna fight him, are you?'

Eric rolled to his feet, lurching at a nearby shelf. 'Well, two can play at that game.' He grabbed a large, heavy ceramic sculpture and brandished it at Kosar. 'Whaddaya think of _that_, numbnuts?'

Kosar's lips curled ever so slightly. 'I think you must be very confident of your sexuality to hold such an accurately carved fertility totem in that particular manner.'

Eric looked down at the oversized jade phallus in his hands.

'Nyah!'

He dropped it as though it was on fire. Kosar smiled again, and handed the spear to Diana.

'Fine,' Eric seethed, 'I'll just have to tear ya a new asshole with my bare hands.'

Kosar just shook his head at Diana, ushering her away. 'Such a gentle soul. Now I see why you were so fond of him...'

'Hey!' Eric ran up to the pair, trying to push them away from one another by the shoulders. 'Hey! Don't you turn away from me when I'm...'

Kosar span around to face Eric so fast that the Cavalier barely saw it happen.

'I already told you, Eric. You keep your filthy hands off the both of us.'

'Or what?' Eric pushed Kosar. 'You'll throw me of the edge of your little sky island again?' He pushed him again. 'Don't you see, Diana? Can't you see what a jerk this guy is?'

'Eric...' started Diana, but Kosar cut her off, glowering darkly at Eric.

'Leave her alone.'

Eric didn't take his eyes off Diana. 'Why can't you see what a fucking idiot you're being?'

Kosar's arm was a blur as he swung the back of his hand across the side of Eric's face. It should have only been a short, sharp slap, but the force of it nearly knocked Eric off his feet.

Diana screamed, but Kosar talked over her.

'Don't you dare talk to her like that. Don't you even bring her into this.'

Eric tried to retaliate, but Kosar managed to block his every punch and kick.

'_You_ brought her into this! You used her, Kosar!'

Kosar hit him again, and sent him reeling into a wall. Still, Eric kept hurling abuse.

'You used the fact that she's special to get you outta the Realm when you knew it should have been her to go, you bastard! You stranded her!'

He tried to duck away from Kosar, but the other man caught him by the shoulder, turned him around and hit him yet again, oblivious to Diana screaming him to stop.

Eric spat blood from his lips and carried on with his rant.

'And now... not what do you want her for? What do you want to use her for?'

Another wallop.

'Eric... Kosar... please stop this...'

'What, is she gonna be another one of your little trinkets? The prettiest and coldest of all your shiny toys?'

Kosar pulled Eric up high by the hair, so that the Cavalier's feet struggled to reach the ground on tiptoe.

'Are you going to leave us alone, Eric?' growled Kosar, 'or am I going to have to kill you?'

At that Diana began to run towards the pair, to break the fight up physically if she possibly could. But Kosar didn't give her time to get to them, and he certainly didn't give Eric time to answer his question, but with incredible strength threw him into a stack of shelves, and watched Eric land limply on his front as the shelves collapsed, showering him in heavy, sharp ancient weaponry.

'Eric!' Diana tried to dash towards the fallen Eric, but Kosar grabbed her waist.

'What are you doing, Kosar?' Diana struggled in his grasp. 'Why are you hurting him like that?'

'Can't you see, my sweet?' Kosar gave Diana a sad little smile. 'If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be doing this to himself. It is you who is hurting him, not me. Why can't you put him out of his misery?'

-x-

It was horribly difficult, almost impossible, to swim so close together that they could share the same breathing tube. It made their progress slow as they slunk through Ulse and Sylka's dwelling towards the door. Sheila seemed particularly anxious to get out, Hank noticed, but had to keep stopping for the two young men to get next to her and take a suck of oxygen. The Sea Nymphs' house was smallish but absolutely full of clutter - most of it apparently salvaged from wrecked ships. There had obviously been a recent struggle. Hank figured that explained the bruises. He wondered what had become of the Sea Nymphs. And then he saw it. Half lying, half floating behind a smashed cabinet - part his own image and part something very, very different. And dead. Oh yes, it was definitely dead. Stabbed in the chest. The blood was still seeping out. He turned, shocked, and saw that Bobby too was looking at the corpse. Sheila had also turned, but her eyes were fixed firmly on Hank. That girl. That girl he had known and loved all his life - there was so much she could say to him without speaking. It was all there - the admission, the regret, the fear of herself, the weariness with it all, all there in those sad, green eyes. How could he have strayed from those eyes? And when did they become so beautifully unhappy?

Sheila blinked out of it, and indicated with a nod of her head that they had to leave. Together they swam towards the door. Bobby kicked it open and, gratefully they hurried outside. They were met with several terrifying sights. Above them was the unchartable expanse of ocean, black with the night, the surface nowhere in sight. Before them was a large city of brightly lit giant bubbles and hemispheres - thronging with Sea Nymphs. But in front of that, only spitting distance away, was the worst image. An angry mob of young Sea Nymphs, around thirty strong, speeding straight towards them. As one, the three adventurers sprang upwards, as though there were a hope that the mob might not be able to intercept them in their dash for the surface. Of course, they were wrong. They had barely got a few feet when the leading Nymph grabbed Bobby's foot. The Barbarian was able to kick her away but she sprang up again, this time grabbing Sheila. Sheila pulled the Sea Nymph away from her as she struggled to kick towards the surface. There was a brief moment of mutual recognition. It was the slighter of Sea Nymphs that had been keeping Hank and Bobby - the one that had run away.

'You're taking my things,' hissed the Sea Nymph, angrily, 'and where's Ulse? What did you do with my sister?'

For a second, Sheila almost felt sorry for the little Sea Nymph. After all, she knew what it was like to worry about a sibling. She knew very well indeed, she reminded herself, her heart hardening. After all, that was what she was doing down there in the first place. More Sea Nymphs were grabbing at Hank and Bobby. They were fighting them off fairly well, but still Sheila ducked down a short way, ignoring Ulse's sister, to help free the two young men and give each a lungful of oxygen.

'Bobby?'

Sheila turned her head sharply at the sound of Terri's voice. Ulse's sister had got the little black haired teenager down almost perfectly. Sheila bit her lip as she fed her brother more air. So _that_ was how Bobby had ended up in the water.

The imitation of Terri drew level with Bobby. 'Bobby, please help me. Did you see my big sister?'

Sheila caught a glimpse of her brother's confused, worried expression, and pulled him up, speeding his ascent, but "Terri" climbed with him.

'Do you have a big sister, Bobby? Do you love her very much? Would you want to know if she was hurt...?'

A harsher voice cried out from below. 'Sylka!'

The Terri/Sylka Thing stopped in her tracks and looked down.

'Merid?'

An older Sea Nymph was standing at the sea bed, just outside the dwelling.

'Sylka,' she cried upwards, 'Sylka, your sister is dead.'

Sheila, still furiously kicking upwards, made the mistake of meeting eyes with the Sea Nymph again. Sylka's expression was one of complete and utter rage. It seemed to have consumed her - her eyes sparkled with a murderous possession.

'No!' screamed Sylka as she took off in the fleeing trio's direction. 'What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?'

-x-

'Wait.' Presto held out his hand to Varla, but she still took another step back. 'You're an illusionist, Varla. You can create the impression that you're... gone, without...'

'I've thought about that,' Varla replied.

'If you just let me in, Varla. If you just let me help you...'

Varla shook her head. 'You mustn't know me any more. I have to be forgotten. I'm sorry, Presto. I'm bad luck. I'm poison. This world is better without me.'

'Varla?'

'Don't try to find me. I'm already gone. Goodbye.'

With that, she took another step backwards, so that her feet met only the night air, and disappeared completely.

Presto screamed out wordlessly, so painfully and hard that he thought the sky might split.

-x-

A small rumble ran through Kosar's palace, causing more debris to fall on Eric as he angrily rose to his feet.

'Eric,' gasped Diana from Kosar's grasp, 'please stop this. Please leave.'

Eric set his face, gritting his teeth. 'Not without you.'

'There's no point in carrying on with this Eric,' added Kosar. 'Why do you keep coming back to fight when you know I've already won?'

'You haven't won.'

Kosar pulled Diana closer. 'She came to me. She is staying with me. She loves me. Not you. You've lost, Eric.'

Eric stepped up to the other side of Diana, squaring up to Kosar. 'Says you.'

'Eric...' started Diana.

'How do you know she doesn't love me, Kosar? Have you asked her? Have you seen her when we're together, have you seen the way she cares for me?'

'Of course she cares for you, you're her friend and I can accept that, but she doesn't...'

'Sure she does.' There was that cocky look of ill-placed bravado on his expression again, that one from way back when. The one he always pulled when he was bullshitting. 'You know why? Because you're fantasy and I'm reality. Her and me... we laugh and we cry, we fight and we fuck - we're for real. We cook each other breakfast. We make each other presents. We've got a song, for God's sake... "Over time, I have built up my castle of love..." you don't have any of that.'

Kosar blinked in recognition of the song.

'Eric...' tried Diana again.

'So go ahead and ask her,' continued Eric. 'Ask her, if you're so sure.'

'Fine,' replied Kosar, his level voice wavering a little. 'If it will bring you peace.' He turned to Diana. 'Do you love him?'

Diana faltered, her breath caught in the back of her throat.

'Diana...?'

'It's...' she looked helplessly from one to the other. 'It's not that simple...'

Kosar's expression began to darken. 'I will not share you, Diana. I love you too much for that.'

'I...' Diana could feel tears welling up in her eyes. 'I...'

'Tell me!' Kosar grabbed the spear in Diana's hands so hard he nearly wrenched it from her hands. She clutched it desperately still, terrified of what he might do with it if she stalled any longer.

'Tell me the truth, Diana! Swear! Do you love him? Are you in love with him? Diana!'

The tears behind Diana's eyes began to roll fat and full down her cheeks. She took another gasping breath, and then the word came out in a sob.

'No.'

-x-

Presto opened his eyes and looked towards the heavens through his tears.

'Oh no... Oh, please, no... what have I done?'

-x-

Eric closed his eyes as his stomach fell away from him. The word was echoing through his mind, finally a word to put all those hopes and fears to an end. 'No'. No, he couldn't make her love him. No, she would never love him. There was a searing pain. He had never expected the rejection to feel so physical, but it did. A hot bar of agony shooting right through his guts, through his back, filling him, paralysing him. He opened his eyes again to see Kosar, nose to nose with him, still furious. Why was Kosar angry? He'd won, after all! He'd beaten him. And then Kosar spoke, his voice full of venom, only the bitterness was not directed at him, but at Diana.

'Liar.'

Diana screamed as Kosar turned back to her and began to drag her away, out of the smashed arsenal. She looked upset. Eric tried to reach out, to go to her, but he couldn't somehow. He couldn't move. He was pinned to the wall. How in the Hell had that happ...

He looked down.

He saw the spear, or at least half of it, jutting out of his belly. It had gone through his armour as if it were butter. There were rivers of fresh blood running down his legs and pooling at his feet. He felt dizzy. Dizzy and cold. He never had been good with blood. The world was spinning, and somehow... somehow the pain wasn't all that painful any more. There were lights all around him, and for the briefest moment, far far away, he could swear that somebody was calling his name.

But he couldn't answer.

His eyes dimmed, his head drooped.

And he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

SIRENS

-x-

Chapter 8

-x-

'NO!' Diana screamed as Kosar dragged her away, slamming the door behind them. 'No! No!'

She tried to fight her way out of Kosar's grip, but he held her fast with a surprising ease.

'How could you, Diana,' he muttered half to himself, 'I give you the stars and you pine for the dirt... I thought you were more precious than that...'

'What have you done, Kosar? What have you done?'

Kosar regarded her, calm returning to his expression. 'It wasn't me, Diana. It was you.'

'What do you mean?' She hit and kicked out him, desperately trying to free herself. 'It was you, Kosar! You... you stabbed that thing right into him...'

'The Spear of Rameh,' Kosar replied. 'You swore falsely on it, Diana. You channeled its power with your lie. If you'd have been truthful it would have bounced straight off him. Calm down, Diana.'

Diana wouldn't calm down. 'How could you? Kosar, let me go! Maybe if I can get him to Presto in time I...'

'Don't worry yourself with that, my love.' Kosar pulled Diana further away from the door. 'The Spear is fatal when it's been lied upon.'

Diana faltered, and became still in his arms. 'You killed him.'

'You loved him. I did warn you that I would not share your heart.' Kosar pulled Diana into a deep, sorrowful embrace, as a parent would a child who had lost her favourite pet. 'I had to know that all your words and deeds weren't just hollow, that I really was the only one that you could love. And now I am.'

'Kosar...' she sobbed into his arms. 'I've been so stupid.'

Kosar smoothed her hair. 'No, love. Never.'

'Yes, Kosar. Really stupid.' She gently pulled herself away from him, wiping her eyes. 'I've wasted the best part of my life over a thin fantasy.'

Kosar smiled, confused. 'Fantasy?'

Diana nodded. 'I made you up. You're not real.'

With that she turned and ran to the door. Kosar wasn't able to grab her hands until she'd already opened the door to the arsenal.

'I am real, Diana.'

'My God,' breathed Diana, ignoring Kosar. 'He's gone.'

Kosar frowned at the wall where he had left Eric skewered. The spear was still there, embedded into the wall, as was the sea of blood, still lukewarm on the floor. But no Cavalier. He breathed in deep.

'That smells like the Dungeon Master's magic.'

Diana allowed herself a small sigh of relief. 'Figures the new DM wouldn't want to lose one of their precious warriors over something as stupid as this.'

'Maybe the Dungeon Master will be able to save him.' Kosar shrugged, disinterestedly. 'I hope for his sake that Eric never returns here.'

'Don't worry. I'll give him no need to.'

Kosar smiled again, loosening his clutch on her wrists. 'There's my Goddess. But I thought you said I didn't exist.'

Diana shook her head, returning his smile. 'I meant, the Kosar I thought I knew isn't real. Years ago I met a boy for just a few hours and barely scratched the surface of what you were, so I filled in all the gaps myself. Turned you into something you could never be.' She took his hands in hers, gently. 'But when I saw you again, I felt like I always wanted to be with you, no matter how you'd turn out to be. I was Naive, Kosar. I chose to ignore how power affects people. I never contemplated that you could have become... like this. And you're right - I tried to pretend to myself that it wasn't the case, but I guess for a while now my heart's kinda been torn between you and Eric. But you've helped me to make my choice tonight. I'm gonna stay where I belong.'

Kosar leaned in to meet her lips with a joyful kiss, but she jumped away, right out of his arms.

'What?' Her lip curled viciously. 'You thought I meant with _you_? You really are an arrogant prick!'

She leaped again, her arms becoming huge, sleek wings as she did so. She wheeled upwards, away from his desperately grabbing hands and, without a glance back, she flew.

-x-

Sheila swam, but still not fast enough - Sylka caught her kicking legs and quickly dragged herself up the Thief's body.

'What have you done?' screamed the Sea Nymph, lashing out a clawed hand at Sheila. 'You killed her! You killed my sister!'

Sheila felt more hands on her - those of Bobby and Hank, trying to pull her upwards and push Sylka away, but still the Sea Nymph clung to her, scratching and clawing and screaming and screaming. Sheila could feel the dark redness descending on her brain. Her fingers itched towards the razor. The razor... the razor was gone! She caught the glint of it as it moved in Sylka's hands. Sheila ducked back, but the blade caught its destination - her breathing tube. Desperately, she and the boys tried to kick upwards as her severed breathing tube began a graceful float towards the sea bed, but the oxygen escaping from the hole at the top of her tank worked against her, pushing her back down. Sylka brought her hand back again, still clutching the razor, ready to strike again, a look of utter black rage in her eyes...

-x-

Something caught them... some strange current in the water caught only her, and Hank, and Bobby, and began to pull them... to suck them upwards. It was so strong that the pressure of the water on the top of her head made her want to pass out, and Sylka slipped from her, and was left far below with the other Sea Nymphs. It was so fast that after less than three seconds their heads hit the surface and found air. Dazed, they looked about themselves. The castle loomed above them, the opened lower gate only a few yards away. It seemed abandoned - there were no guards at the gate, and no Janapurna.

'Hello?' Sheila coughed as she swam towards the gate. 'Janapurna? Anybody?'

'I don't like this.' Hank pulled himself up first, and held a hand down to Sheila, which she ignored.

Sheila clambered aboard the palace independently and waited for her brother.

'Whaddaya suppose is going on?'

They padded damply up staircases and winding corridors until they heard noises – the sound of panicking women was coming from the main courtyard. Just as they were about to run towards it, two young guards turned the corner and scurried into them.

'Miss Sheila!' gasped one girl. She momentarily noted Hank and Bobby. 'You found your men, I see.'

Sheila nodded curtly. 'Any news from Aurore and the others?'

Both guards shook their heads with equally worried expressions.

'Those Sea Nymphs haven't come back, have they?' added Bobby.

'No,' muttered the other guard. 'I'm… I'm so sorry. We all are.'

'Sorry?' Hank blinked as he felt Sheila and Bobby's breaths harshen. 'What about?'

The guards blinked, and the first girl pulled the second past them.

'We have to watch the gate for the others…' called the first guard as an apologetic explanation as they both ran off.

Hank blinked, then took both Sheila and Bobby's hand and began to stride towards the sound of the commotion.

'What…' attempted Sheila, 'what do you think…'

'I don't know,' Hank muttered in reply. 'I just hope everybody's…'

He trailed off as they entered the courtyard and saw the scene in front of them. A throng of worrying women scuttled around two small tables as they arranged and scrubbed them into a makeshift sterile surface. Others were boiling bandages and pounding herbs. At the centre of the commotion were Presto and Janapurna, their robes, hands and faces stained with blood. They carried a very still form between them.

_Oh you stupid bastard. What have you done to yourself? What have you done?_

His armour was practically black with blood and sported a hole several inches across, and his head had slumped downwards, but Hank knew who it was. They all knew who it was. Sheila had already started sprinting towards him.

'Eric!'

'Don't crowd, Sheila.' Presto's voice was calm, way too calm, but the eyes behind the glasses were puffy and shot with pink. 'If you want to help, try getting his armour off him. Gently. He's lost so much blood already.'

Bobby too tried to go up to Eric, but Hank held him back. 'You heard Presto. Don't crowd.'

'What happened…?' Muttered Bobby. A familiar white snout nudged him, and he put an arm around Uni's neck automatically.

Hank shook his head, avoiding the unicorn's recriminating gaze. 'I don't know, Bob.

'Think… Think Presto can fix him?'

Sheila tried her best to be fast and fluid with the clasps of Eric's breastplate, but the slick blood made her fumble, and her Thief's Fingers were already trembling.

'Where's Diana? She should be here…'

Presto avoided her gaze. 'That's Diana's choice.'

'Can you fix him, Presto?' She whispered, 'Can you? Will he be OK? You can fix him, right?'

She unclasped the breastplate and was showered in a fresh onslaught of blood from the huge hole through Eric's belly.

'Honestly, Sheila?' There was so much tension in Presto's voice, as though he had a long, hard scream permanently trapped in the back of his throat. 'I really don't know.'

-x-

Diana landed, and shook herself free of feathers. The courtyard was deserted, but something at one side caught her eye. A table, pushed against a wall, a large stain of blood beneath it. There was a male form lying on the table, wrapped in bandages, utterly still.

'Eric.'

She ran to him, but he didn't stir.

'Eric?'

She brushed his still-warm face with her hand. He didn't twitch. A breeze blew past them both, heightening the silence. There was only the thud of her heartbeat and the lapping of the calm water. There should have been _some_ others about at least, but there weren't. They were utterly alone. She looked about the empty courtyard, bewildered.

'Presto? Sheila? Janapurna?' She ran a shaking hand through Eric's hair. 'Why aren't they here? They should be here. You're hurt…'

'I'm finished…'

She jumped at the faint croak issuing from the table. Eric opened his eyes a little way and smiled weakly.

'Eric…'

'There was nothin' they could do,' he murmured. 'So I told them to go. I wanted to be alone. Too much cryin'…' he trailed off, coughing painfully.

Diana sniffed back bitter tears. 'Eric, no…'

Her outburst was met with a slow, lopsided grin. 'Don't _you_ start too.' He smacked his dry lips. 'Whatcha doin' back here, anyhoo? I thought you were stayin' with… I thought you said you didn't…'

'I lied.' She took his hand and looked him in the eyes, fighting off the sobs. 'All this time I've been lying to myself. The spear knew. When I said I didn't love you, it was a lie big enough to give that thing all the power it needed to slice straight through your armour and…'

'Diana?' There was confusion in Eric's dimming eyes.

'It's you, Eric.' Diana pulled herself closer in to him as his eyes started to roll back. 'I don't know when it happened, but it happened somewhere, somehow, without me even recognizing it. I've fallen in love with you.'

'Now she tells me…' sighed Eric, closing his eyes.

'Are you listening to me, Eric?' She tried shaking him, but he didn't respond. He had become limp in her arms. 'I love you! Isn't that enough for you to wake up? Eric… Eric, look at me.' She shook him again, harder. 'Look at me!'

'Diana.'

She turned her head behind her, following Presto's flat voice. The Wizard was slowly walking towards her, carrying clean bandages and a jug of water.

'You're back,' added Presto. 'What happened?'

'What _happened_?' Diana lost her control and began to wail. 'Presto, he's _dead_! Eric's dead and I killed him!'

'Diana…' attempted Presto.

'What am I gonna do, Presto? I love him! I love him so much and it took for him to be taken away from me to be able to work it out… Why am I so stupid, Presto? Why am I so fucking stupid?'

'Diana, he…'

'He had such a good soul, Presto. Such a good heart and he gave it to me and I treated it like dirt and now he's gone… he's gone and I'll never get him back. I don't get the chance to love him back like he deserves…'

'Diana.'

There was no stopping Diana now. She held Eric's body tightly to herself and trembled with tears.

'Why did he have to die? Why did he have to die?'

'He didn't.'

Diana looked up at Presto, still sobbing? 'What? What do you…?'

'He's not dead, Diana. The spear's only fatal to the person who _told_ the lie. I patched him up about half an hour ago. Aurore and the others have come back from underwater - we left him here to get some rest while we helped them in.'

'But…' began Diana.

Presto pointed at the body in Diana's arms. 'Look at him, he's fine.'

Diana looked down at "the corpse" she'd been cradling. A very much alive Eric grinned back at her.

'Oh… my God…' she muttered, gathering her thoughts. 'You… you… fucking BASTARD!'

She dropped Eric back onto the table, but he sat up, brightly, still beaming.

'You put me through all that… made me think you were dead… you vindictive, callous, heartless Goddam _liar_!'

Eric shrugged. 'Guess that makes two of us.'

'I mean, how could you be so cruel? How could you be so hurtful?'

'Hey!' Eric snapped, 'I'm the one who took a spear right through the middle because _you_ told the guy that _you_ had run off with that you didn't love me. I mean, have you any idea how much that _smarts_? Besides, if that thing had gone through my heart or my lungs, or I hadn't been brought back here before I lost any more blood I'd be dead anyway. _And_ what kind of woman makes a guy wait until he's on his _deathbed_ to tell him that she loves him? Huh? Diana Jones, that's who.'

'So, what?' seethed Diana, 'you pretended to be dying just so you could get me to admit that I love you?'

Eric replied with a wide, know-it-all grin. 'Ha ha, you love me.'

Diana growled furiously, pushing her fingers through her hair. 'I can't _believe_ you! Son of a bitch…'

'You love me,' he smirked back.

'Shut up,' snarled Diana in reply, stalking off. 'This isn't over yet, Montgomery. This means War, I hope you know that…'

'You love me!' he yelled cheerfully at her retreat.

He laughed as she turned angrily to flip him off, and waited until she had gone until he allowed himself to wince and gingerly lie back down on the table.

'Was it worth it?' Presto's voice was flat and emotionless as he began to change Eric's blooded bandages.

'Are you kidding?' Eric sucked in air through his teeth as the bandages stuck to his wound. 'Did you see the look on her face?'

'Do you have any idea how close you came to dying back there? Do you have any idea how much you scared us all?'

'It was still worth it.'

Eric caught the serious look in Presto's eyes.

'But', he added, 'it'll never happen again. Cross my heart and hope to get impaled with a magic spear.'

'It had better not,' chided Presto.

There was a moment of silence as Presto checked and cleaned the wound.

'So,' muttered Eric, conversationally, 'did those other women find that Doohickey that got stolen?'

Presto shook his head. 'It was already gone. Janapurna thinks the Sea Nymphs must have been working for someone else.'

'Furnus?' Eric suggested.

'I hope not.'

Eric sighed. 'Talk about "One step forward, two steps back".'

Presto joined him in his sigh. 'I know. It's not looking too peachey right now, is it? I reckon our next move is to make getting to The Truth before Furnus does our priority. Venger's out getting feelers as to where it might roughly be already. We might be able to intercept it before it's too late.'

Eric pulled a face. 'Are you really sure it's worth all that trouble? It's just a Thing.'

'Take a moment to think about all the little secrets you keep, Eric.' Presto frowned lightly at his friend as he secured the fresh bandages. 'All the secrets about yourself, about the gang… about me… and I'm sure that the ones I know about are only the tip of the iceberg, 'cause you certainly don't know all of _my_ innermost thoughts, best friend or no best friend. But The Truth knows. All yours, all mine, all everybody's. And it'll tell. If it can cause enough damage, it _will_ tell. You really want our enemies to get their hands on something like that?'

Eric blinked. 'I'm not sure I'd even want any of our _friends_ to get their hands on something like that.'

'Exactly.' Presto stepped back a little. 'Get to bed, Eric. You'll need some rest. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.' He sighed, miserably. 'And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…'

Eric sat up again, trying to watch the eyes behind the glasses. 'Are you OK, Presto?'

Presto shrugged. 'DM stuff…'

'Sucks, doesn't it?' Eric gave Presto a small, worried smile. 'Listen, if there's anything you wanna…'

Presto took another step back. 'Do you know why I like you so much, Eric? Why I tell you so much?'

'It honestly beats the Hell out of me.'

'Because,' answered Presto, flatly, 'you're not the kind of person who gives a guy all that "Do You Want To Talk About It" New Age Bullshit. You just let me get on with it.'

Presto turned to leave, but Eric painfully slid himself off the table to follow him.

'Hey, all I was saying was…'

Presto didn't even turn. 'Shouldn't you be apologizing to your girlfriend, Eric?'

Eric stopped. 'Dammit.'

He watched Presto for a moment, then turned off in the direction Diana had left, leaving Presto to walk from the courtyard in peace.

-x-

The courtyard lay empty for several minutes, dark and quiet. Then came the rhythmic, soft sound of leather boots walking on cobblestone. A young man and woman turned a corner and awkwardly crossed the courtyard together.

Sheila noticed the empty table. 'Eric's gone already. After losing all that blood… I'd have thought he'd be too weak to move.'

'Presto's an incredible magician,' replied Hank, softly. 'Eric's probably right as rain by now.'

'Think that Lookout was right, Hank?' Sheila asked, suddenly. 'You think she really did see Diana back here?'

'Can't see why she'd lie,' replied Hank, 'and it might explain where Eric's run off to…' he trailed off a little. 'He really is crazy about that girl…' He looked down at Sheila in concern.

'I hope she's back,' breathed Sheila. 'After all the people I could'a lost tonight, I just want to know everybody's OK…' She tried to sneak a glance up at Hank, but their eyes locked and they both looked away, embarrassed.

'Sheila…' attempted Hank.

'Hank, don't…'

'Bob was losing it down there,' continued Hank, 'and I was all out of ideas. If you hadn't risked everything to rescue us tonight, I don't know what we'd have done. I want you to know…'

'Please, Hank.'

'I want you to understand how incredible you are.' Hank stopped, and turned Sheila around to face him. 'And I want you understand how sorry I am. Not just about Nym, that was just another stupid mistake on top of a million stupid mistakes. I'm so sorry for everything. For becoming somebody you don't respect any more, that you can't love any more, and don't say that's not how you feel, because I feel it too. I don't respect myself any more. I don't love myself. I hate what I've let myself turn into.'

'You mustn't hate yourself, Hank. You're still good, you're still brave… you… you threw yourself in the water because you thought I was gonna drown.' Sheila blinked up at his amazed face. 'Like I said before, you keep forgetting the things I see when I can't be seen myself.'

Hank set his face and sighed. 'I didn't do that because I'm wonderful and brave, Sheila. I did that because I still love you. I still need you.'

'I know you do.' Sheila allowed herself a small smile. 'And for the record, I…' she stalled, watching his eyes. 'It's not that I don't still love you too.'

'Oh, Sheila.' His sigh wasn't just one of relief. It was one of immense joy, and yet at the same time extreme melancholy. 'Sheila, do you think… do you think that maybe… perhaps… you and me might be able to…'

She cut him off with a kiss - a small, fast peck on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless.

'Goodnight, Hank.'

'Oh.' He didn't return her wish goodnight until she had already slipped through a door into the chambers beyond. He stood alone for some time, his fingertips at his lips. It was only when he noticed the sky begin to turn a dark, inky blue with pre-dawn light that he turned back to his dormitory.

-x-

Eric found Diana on the battlements, staring out to sea.

'Truce?'

She kept on facing the water. 'Truce.'

'Sorry about the death faking thing.'

'No you're not.' She turned to him, biting down a smile. 'It _did_ make a pretty romantic scene, didn't it? Even if you weren't really dying.'

'You thought my "death" was romantic?' Eric shook his head, fondly. 'You are one twisted sister. So if you're not really mad, what are you doin' skulking out here?'

'Not skulking,' tutted Diana, 'I've been thinking. _Deciding._'

'Deciding what?'

Diana pulled the necklace up over her head. 'Deciding I don't want any of His presents any more.'

'Diana…?' Eric chewed his lip. 'Deeds, are you sure? As much as I hate that jackass' guts, those beads are pretty powerful, and…'

Ignoring him, Diana threw the necklace from herself, sending them arcing into the black sea. She turned to him, primly.

'I'm sorry, what were you saying?'

'Fine,' snapped Eric, 'just throw half your powers away, why don'tcha?'

'They were from Him. I don't want them.'

'Well…' Eric paused, a thought hitting him. He untied the thin strip of fabric from around his neck and handed it to her. 'Well, this is from me. Will you wear it if it's from me?'

She smiled warmly and tied the new, single beaded necklace around her throat. 'I'd love to.' She ran her hands down the neck of her silk gown. 'I'd better get out of this stupid, flouncy dress as well.'

Eric grinned. 'Yay!'

She arched an eyebrow at him. 'I meant that I want to change back into my regular clothes. I assume they're still up in my room.'

'Yeah,' sighed Eric, disappointed.

She took his hand. 'Come on, then.'

He let her lead him towards her room. 'So are we a couple again or not? I'm starting to lose track here…'

'Shut up, Sylvester.'

-x-

Presto found a small, dark, empty room, little more than a storage cupboard, for himself to lock himself into. He curled himself up and projected his mind outwards. He wasn't looking for The Truth. Not this time. There'd be plenty of time for that later. He pushed himself through the Palace as the others fell asleep and out, beyond the sea, over the desert, past the green hills and the ruins of Alice's world, past the wasteland and remains of the collapsed tower and the destroyed cave and the rotting body of the Beast, to a tiny little kingdom, built around a swamp. He searched the minds there, stretched as he was. He felt the misery, the misery that infected the citizens there infected him too. He placed himself within a throng of men as they helped with a small, broken body wrapped in a sheet, helped to put in gently into a moderately ornate coffin. The men were all crying, and he was crying too, helplessly, feeling nothing but black despair as the news spread across the little kingdom.

The Queen had killed herself.

Varla was dead.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

END OF 'SIRENS' - To be continued in 'THE AWFUL TRUTH'.


End file.
